Watership Down Tales from the New World
by Sharks Potter
Summary: A mini-sequel to New World, including several deleted scenes, plus an epilogue chapter where an aged Alan returns to London in 2027 and reunites with Drake in his apartment, bringing news on the group's progress in the future.
1. Chapter 1 Lifeline

**Disclaimer: Hallo, my beloved readers and reviewers! Welcome to **_**Watership Down; Tales from the New World**_**, a collection of deleted scenes from **_**New World**_**. As always, the characters are the creations and property of Richard Adams. I only own the human characters and certain elements of the future world; everything else in this universe is borrowed, no profit is intended from this work and it isn't based on any real-life people or events. **

**Notice to all readers: This is a collection of several chapter-length deleted scenes and a final epilogue from **_**Watership Down; The New World**_**, my first WD story. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT STORY FIRST, YOU WILL BE VERY CONFUSED! **

After Alan, Hazel and Fiver left to go and find Bigwig and Robbins, the others, accompanied by Strawberry, went to round up the rest of their companions and brief them of the news. Their reaction of shock and outrage, as Strawberry recited his confession to them, was unimaginable. Many of them were tempted to strike Strawberry on the spot for being in league with Cowslip and attempting to lure them into Silverweed's control, but Holly managed to talk them out of it, explaining that Strawberry was just as much a victim as they were.

While Holly and Silver made sure everyone was accounted for, Strawberry attempted to persuade some of his other friends to join them too. Unfortunately, Cowslip's influence, as well as their natural fear of humans, was too firmly rooted to be undone in a heartbeat, even without Silverweed; only Nildrohein agreed to follow her mate into this uncertain future they had been offered. As an afterthought however, they told them the location of their future home, should any of them change their minds and attempt to follow later, unlikely as it seemed, as Cowslip's rabbits kept their distance from this band of ithel-escorted hlessil.

Suddenly, Derek came running down the entrance run looking alarmed; McEwen grabbed hold of him, "Easy man, what's the trouble?" Derek took a moment to catch his breath, "Alan just radioed in; he says they found Bigwig strangled by Robbins! I knew that guy meant trouble!"

In an instant, the former Sandlefordians were in a state of utmost shock and uproar, "WHAT? BIGWIG HAS BEEN KILLED?" Many rabbits seemed ready to dash out and aid in the search for the culprit; Derek and McEwen had to struggle to keep everyone under control, "Easy fellas! We have to stay put until we know more about what's going on. It's too dangerous to out there until we know more; we don't know what that guy is capable of…"

Before anyone could protest however, they were suddenly caught off-guard by the thunder-like sound of a gun going off, coming from the direction of the graveyard, sending panicked birds flying. Cowslip's rabbits, unfamiliar and utterly terrified by the alien sound, instantly fled down to their burrows in a panic. The Sandleford rabbits, although also terrified by the sound, managed to hold their ground, "What in Frith's name was that?" But Derek and McEwen already knew all too well what had just happened.

"That was a _gunshot_! And Alan doesn't have a gun… It's Robbins! They are in trouble! Come on!" Derek turned and run in the direction from where the shot had been heard. McEwen hesitated for a second; going unarmed against an armed and potentially dangerous enemy, who meant business, was reckless and foolish in the extreme. But he still couldn't let Dr Shaw go after his friend alone, remembering his duty, when he had been sent on this rescue mission to bring these people back safely; although he obviously couldn't bring them home anymore – or get himself home for that matter -, he still felt it was his duty to watch out for their safety.

He turned to the rabbits, "Holly and Silver, you two come with me; I'll need a couple of veterans to cover my back. The rest of you stay inside and don't let anyone out of each other's sight until we come back!" Without another word, he picked up the medical kit from his chopper, and followed Derek out, towards the graveyard, Holly and Silver in tow.

Meanwhile, back at the graveyard, Bigwig stood towering above Robbins' unconscious form; after he had regained consciousness, finding himself free of the noose and remembering Robbins and Cowslip leaving him to die that horrible death to silence him, he had hurried back to the graveyard, intent on dealing with those two troublemakers himself, before they could hurt any of his friends. His heart had nearly skipped a beat as he stepped into the clearing, only to see Hazel and Fiver tied to a tree and Robbins pointing some sort of 'shinny weapon' in Alan's face, as if about to kill him.

Hazel and Fiver were the first to spot him but luckily remained silent as Bigwig noiselessly crept up behind Robbins for a surprise attack; Alan also seemed to notice him as he sneered back at Robbins, "Farewell Robbins, do drop us a card from hell!"

Realising he only had a second before Robbins would turn around and see him, Bigwig suddenly stood on his hinge legs and slammed his heavy paw over Robbins' head with all the strength he could muster. But the effect was more than what he had expected; the second he struck, a deafening, thunder-like sound had come from the gadget clutched in Robbins' hand, unleashing, what seemed to be from Bigwig's point of view, a bolt of lighting, which struck Alan square in the chest. The man uttered a yell of pain and sunk to his knees, before falling backwards into a freshly dug pit behind him.

Horrified by what had just happened, Bigwig stepped over Robbins' limp form and stared at Alan; the man lay spread-eagle at the bottom of the pit, completely unmoving. Although horrified by what he had just done – unintentionally or not -, Bigwig quickly got his grip together, to think straight. Quickly making sure the enemy was down and wouldn't be sneaking up on him again, he hurried up to Hazel and Fiver and, with some effort, managed to gnaw through the cords, freeing his friends. The two brothers stared back at the former Sandleford Owsla officer, utterly dumbstruck.

"_Thlayli?_ By Frith, we thought you were…"

"Dead?" supplied Bigwig, "That's what I thought when I found myself being strangled alive in that snare; I could almost see the eyes of the Black Rabbit of Inle staring back at me…"

"We saw you missing and went looking for you, only to find you hanging; Alan got you down and tried to revive you but you wouldn't wake. We all thought you had been murdered and went after Robbins. Only he…" Hazel said but Bigwig cut him off, "You came _after_ me? After I scorned you and called you lunatics? In anything, I would have deserved my fate…" But they were interrupted by Fiver, who had instantly run up to Alan, "I don't think he's breathing!"

Hazel, realising they had an emergency on their paws, turned to Bigwig, "Go get the others, hurry!"

"Wait, you need me _here_," replied the mighty veteran sternly, gesturing in the direction of the unconscious Robbins, who was groaning, as if about to stir, "I don't want you here alone when this bastard awakes; and I've got a bone to pick with him when he does…!" Without bothering to argue, Hazel turned to Fiver instead, "Go get the others Fiver. Be quick, he'll die!" Without another word, Fiver sprang from the pit where Alan lay, seemingly dead, and bolted for the warren.

Meanwhile, Cowslip was hurrying back to his warren, feeling rather nervous. After seeing Alan and Robbins caught in a fight, he had slipped away, not wanting to be around should things tip out of his favour. Although Robbins had reassured him that there was no way anything could go wrong, seeing Alan strike back so fearlessly was enough to convince Cowslip that his new boss had chosen a far more dangerous opponent than what he had bargained for; and Cowslip was not the one to put his neck on the line on the word of a reckless fool. He had his own backup plan worked out himself.

Tonight was full moon, time for another visit by the humanoids that maintained his warren, something his guests hadn't the faintest idea about; his bullying of his people, combined with Silverweed's mind manipulation powers, had made sure that nobody would dare speak the truth to newcomers. All he had to do was lie low until daybreak; most likely, those hlessil that thought they could turn his people against him so easily, and right under his nose, would soon be attacked and killed unawares, effectively bailing him out of the mess Robbins had landed him in. However, he didn't get far.

As he tore through the bushes, he ran straight into Derek, McEwen, Holly and Silver, who were running in the opposite direction, towards the graveyard. Not giving them a chance to catch him, Cowslip got to his feet first and bolted; only he collided with Strawberry who suddenly emerged from the bushes, flanked by Pipkin, who had also followed him, desperate to find out what had happened to their friends.

Seeing his chance, Cowslip tried to hide behind Strawberry, hoping to use the chubby buck as a bodyguard; to his utmost shock, Strawberry only responded with a painful cuff, which sent Cowslip crumpling to the ground in a heap, "Strawberry, what…what are you doing? Strike your own Chief and guardian?"

"You never were my Chief no more than you were my guardian," Strawberry spat in disgust, giving his former master such a cold glare, Cowslip felt scared; the fat, skittish, helpless, cowardly rabbit he knew was replaced with an angry buck, looking ready to kill. But his shock at Strawberry's betrayal instantly gave way to fury.

"You fool! You dare defy my philosophy, will you? You are banished, just like I should have done seasons ago!" Strawberry only sneered in reply, "Good, because I have no intention of staying on, you pathetic waste of a rabbit! Get him lads!" Before he knew what was happening, Cowslip found himself violently pinned down by the hlessil. Without bothering to reprimand Pipkin and Strawberry for following them into danger, the group gathered around the now terrified Cowslip, furiously demanding explanations, "What have you done with our friends? Who fired that shot? What happened?"

"You don't understand, my dear friends; it's just a simple misunderstanding…" But Holly pinned him down by the throat, nearly chocking him in the process, "One more of your lies and I'll rip your throat out! Now, I am asking you for the last time, _where are our friends_?"

Before Cowslip could formulate some sort of response however, Fiver suddenly came running from the bushes, looking terrified. Silver caught him, trying to calm him down, "Easy Fiver; what's going on? Where is Hazel? Where is Alan? What happened?" Struggling to catch his breath, Fiver burst into hysterics.

"You've got to come! He hit him and I think he's dying…!"

"Calm down! _Who_ is dying?" McEwen said sternly, gently grabbing Fiver by the shoulders. Fiver calmed down enough to speak, "It's Alan! Robbins ambushed us back there; he said he was the murderer of Alan's family. He had some sort of…fire stick and hit Alan with it through the heart…!" McEwen paled as Derek bellowed, "HE DID WHAT? ALAN GOT _SHOT_?" Without waiting for an answer, he bolted in the direction of the graveyard, intent on helping his friend. McEwen took charge of the rest of the group, "Let's go! And make sure you bring _him_ along," he said, nudging Cowslip, still pinned under Holly, with the tip of his shoe, "I don't want this troublemaker running free, causing us more mischief."

With Silver and Holly holding Cowslip securely between them so he wouldn't escape, the group hurried back to the graveyard. As they stepped into the clearing of headstones, McEwen gave a gasp as he spotted the three nuclear cores sitting armed in their cases, Robbins lying unconscious on the ground, the revolver, from which the shot had been fired, still clutched in his limp hand, and Derek bending over Alan's body in the bottom of his open grave. Quickly assessing the situation, he hurried over to the distraught engineer, who was desperately shaking his unresponsive friend for any signs of life.

"Alan come on man, breathe! You can't die on me now…!"

"Out of the way Shaw!" McEwen barked, shoving Derek aside and bending over Alan, and opening the first aid kit, "I understand your concern for your friend but you must follow my instructions if we're going to sort this out. I need _you_ to try and do something about _those_," he said, turning Derek's head around, so he could see the cores, whose presence he hadn't even registered in his anxiety to learn if Alan was alive or dead.

After securely binding Robbins and Cowslip with duct-tape, so they wouldn't try and escape, and confiscating the man's gun, stun gun, bag, and everything he had in his pockets, Derek turned his attention to the cores, his engineering mind working furiously to figure out how to diffuse the bombs, literally by the seat of his pants. Although he could have kicked himself for leaving his closest friend, who was dying, in the care of a complete stranger, he knew McEwen was right; the second he had recognised the fusion cores, set on a countdown for detonation, it was clear that focusing their attention on these deadly devices took priority, as harsh as it sounded; and it would be up to _him_ to put these things back to sleep again.

He studied the screen of the control panel on the first warhead; all that was visible was the tiny touch-screen, in illegible Cyrillic, and the digital timer, counting down from just under 72 hours. With regards to any manual controls, the only thing he could see was the cylindrical key, inserted in its slot at the head (the bulky end) of the device. There were no wires or buttons to work with, making the task of disarming them seem tricky, if not impossible; but Derek's excellent knowledge of engineering and electronics was quickly kicking in, as he calmly started working on disarming the cores…

Satisfied that Derek had diverted his full attention to the cores, McEwen tended to his own task. He turned to Bigwig and Silver, who were the strongest, "Help me lift him out of there; I'll take his head and you take his legs. Do it gently and coordinated, in case he has a spinal injury." The rabbits obeyed and got into position, following McEwen's instructions promptly and without question.

From the second he had laid eyes on the unconscious professor, the pilot had been scanning for signs of a bullet wound; since there was no bleeding visible anywhere, McEwen had assumed the professor had been shot in the back, possibly sustaining a spinal injury in the process. Yet as they placed him beside the pit and turned him over, to get a better look at him, they still couldn't find any traces of a puncture wound; but that was of little consolation, as McEwen realised Alan indeed wasn't breathing.

Quickly tearing open Alan's shirt, causing two buttons to be ripped off in the process, he cringed as he saw a large purple bruise on Alan's chest, right above his heart. And lying across the point of impact was the small brass compass, which was battered and mangled from a bullet pellet wedged on the steel surface of the face; the gadget had miraculously intercepted the bullet, rather than let it penetrate Alan's body, which would have otherwise been fatal. However, the violent blow had still been enough to cause the professor's heart to stall on impact. McEwen felt his insides coil up; if they couldn't restart it quickly, the lack of oxygen in the brain would kill the man in minutes.

Since the medical kit had no ventilator or defibrillator, both having been lost in the crash, McEwen proceeded to perform manual CPR on Alan and giving him rescue breaths on accurate intervals, using his watch as a chronometer. Although he was a pilot rather than a qualified paramedic, as every experienced veteran of the Royal Air Forces, he was well trained in all such first aid techniques, just like Alan was from the Marines.

Holly, Silver and Pipkin however, unfamiliar with McEwen's techniques and thinking he was trying to hurt Alan, were instantly upon him, trying to pull him away, "What in Frith's name do you think you are doing?! Are you trying to kill him faster?!" Holly barked, as the three rabbits forcibly pulled him away, looking furious. McEwen struggled to shake them off, "Unhand me you cretins! I am trying to save his bloody life!"

"By _beating him to death_?" Silver retorted with a snarl, "What kind of healing to you call that, huh?" Before McEwen could continue arguing however, Hazel and Fiver stepped in, "For Frith's sake, just do what he says; that is what brought Bigwig back!" At that moment, Derek, who had just finished disarming the last core, joined them, looking scandalised, "Bloody hell, what are you waiting for Major? Get back to work! Now!"

The rabbits hesitantly released McEwen, who instantly sprang back to work, praying that the rabbits interrupting him, hadn't sealed Dr Johnson's doom. As if on queue, an oily voice sneered from behind them, "You morons are wasting your breaths; he's a dead dog already…" They turned and saw Robbins had regained consciousness; although finding himself bound and unarmed, his plans ruined, he couldn't miss the opportunity to jeer at Alan's fate and the pain it was bound to bring upon the others. Derek saw red as he rounded on Robbins.

"YOU! YOU DID THIS TO HIM, YOU MISERABLE SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU!" he growled, as he walked up to Robbins, cracking his knuckles, with Bigwig in tow, "And you tried to kill me! You've made the worst mistake of your life chum!" the mighty veteran growled as they both fell upon their prisoner in a fit of rage. Not taking into consideration that Robbins was immobilised and unable to fight back, the pair began punching and pummelling the man mercilessly. Although not a martial artist like Alan, Derek was a big man and could hit pretty hard, and, combined with Bigwig's strength, Robbins was soon bleeding, bruised and panting in pain.

"S…stop…please stop…"

"What's that?" sneered Derek as he kicked Robbins in the ribs again, "You want me to stop? You really want me to stop? Because I bet _you_ wouldn't even consider granting that request to Alan, had he been in your shoes!" he shouted as they continued to beat Robbins soundly and then added more blows on Cowslip too in retaliation. Before they could do any real damage however, McEwen interrupted them.

"Will you two idiots cut out that nonsense and bloody well help us here?" Giving Cowslip and Robbins one final punch each, they hurried back to the rest of the group, who were gathered around the still unresponsive Alan.

"Were you able to do anything about those damn bombs?" McEwen asked in a gruff voice, without taking his eyes off his work. Derek nodded as he knelt beside Alan, "Yes, I found a little notepad in the bastard's pocket, with the entire arming procedure scribbled down. It was only a simple matter of punching in the override code and removing the arming key," he said, showing them a small black notepad and the cylindrical key he had removed, without which the cores were useless, "Those things aren't actually _bombs_; they are some sort of _atomic batteries_ meant to power some other larger device, possibly a weapon of some kind. They were fitted with a crude auto-destruct mechanism, intended to destroy them in some desperate situation by triggering a meltdown in the nuclear rod casing; in other words, a Hiroshima-level disaster. Anyway, screw that, what about Alan? Anything?"

McEwen didn't answer as he restlessly continued performing CPR but it didn't seem to be working; aside from the rising of the chest cavity caused by McEwen's breathing down Alan's throat and the faint jolts caused by the pounding on the man's stalled heart in a desperate attempt to restart it, Alan lay still and pale, without displaying any signs of life.

Pipkin was silently sobbing by his friend's side; even before the man had saved him from the river, Pipkin had seen something of a fatherly figure in this friendly ithe from the forgotten past, someone he could look up to and trust, given that his own family had died when he was still too young to even remember them. Now, when it seemed that his dream of having a family again had come true, it was all being shattered before his eyes.

"It's no use McEwen. The man is gone," Hazel finally said sadly, when Alan still didn't show any signs of regaining consciousness. Derek was pacing back and forth, almost ripping out his hair and nails in desperation, his eyes darting back to Robbins. If Alan died, then he would make sure that bastard would die too for this… But McEwen, always a determined soldier, still wasn't giving up.

"Wait, I'll try an intracardiac; it still might not be too late." He pulled out a syringe from the medical kit and removed the cap, preparing the shot. Then, suddenly, as if by a miracle, Alan gave a painful cough and blinked his bloodshot eyes. McEwen was just about to drive the needle into his heart when the man weakly raised his hand to stop him, mouthing in a raspy voice, "Wait, don't! I'm all right…" Joy and relief instantly blossomed in the hearts of everyone present; by an amazing stroke of luck, Alan was still alive.

**Author's note:** This is an extended scene, set between chapters 13 and 14, showing what happened when Alan was shot and knocked unconscious, with McEwen in a lead role. However, I decided to cut it for pacing reasons. There are a few more scenes on the way, so enjoy and please review! Even deleted scenes require effort to write!


	2. Chapter 2 Fiver Beyond

Derek and McEwen rode as fast as they could through the trees, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the savages pursuing them; after they had split up, hoping to throw the savages off their trail, they had no idea what was happening to the rest of their companions. Finally, the trees began to thin out, as they reached the bank of a new, unnamed stream flowing southward, the moonlight reflected on its mirror-like surface.

Hastily calling the horses to a halt at the water's edge, the two men turned round and saw their rabbit companions also emerging from the trees all around them, also having made their way out of the forest safely. Within a few minutes, they had regrouped: Acorn, Speedwell, Buckthorn, Blackberry, Bluebell, Violet, Strawberry, Nildrohein, Boxwood, Haystack, Hawkbit, Dandelion, Holly, Silver, Fiver and Bigwig, who was carrying Pipkin; the dwarf rabbit, unfit and unaccustomed to such running had been falling behind, and in danger of being caught by the pursuing natives.

"Everybody all right? Did we all make it?" Bigwig asked as he put Pipkin down and looked around, to make sure everyone was unaccounted for. Derek unbuttoned his shirt collar, breathing a sigh of relief, "Phew, that was one close shave, wasn't it guys? Though I must say Al…Al? Where is he?" he said, all of them suddenly becoming aware that Alan was no longer with them. Derek felt his insides turn to ice, remembering how his brave friend had doubled back to help Hazel, who had been struck by one of the humanoids' arrows. Had his oath to protect his newfound friends finally gotten him captured or worse, killed?

As if on queue, Fiver gasped, "And where is Hazel? Where is my brother?"

"I thought he was with you," Bigwig replied sharply as they became aware of their second comrade's absence. They all felt their hearts sink at the thought of what might have become of their two friends if they had been caught by those savages; the horrible memory of finding Pimpernel butchered was enough to last them all a lifetime. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a large shadow that moved across the moon, engulfing them in total darkness.

"What in Frith's name is that?"

Floating in the sky above them was a bulbous-shaped object, drifting across the moon, casting its shadow upon them. The rabbits, although realising that this unfamiliar contraption - whatever it was - wasn't a threat to them, stared at it in utter bewilderment. But McEwen, who had grabbed the binoculars for a closer look, uttered a yell of excitement as he recognised it.

"It's a _balloon_! There are other people here as well!" Overwhelmed by the fact that they had found more fellow time travellers in this world - some that had made it through with their ride _intact_ nonetheless – the Royal Air Force pilot grabbed his flashlight and signalling mirror, trying to signal the balloonists to their presence, "Ahoy, upper there! Help! We're down here! Ahoy!"

"Don't waste your breath Major. They can't hear us!" Derek said. But McEwen, desperate not to lose this only chance of ever seeing his family again, desperately continued trying to signal, using his flashlight as an improvised Morse lamp but the balloonists – whoever they were – didn't seem to see them and soon the balloon had drifted away, towards the south and was lost from view. McEwen cursed in frustration, "Damn, why didn't I remember to salvage the flare gun from the chopper? It could have meant our salvation now…!"

"There is no time to worry about that now," Derek interrupted sternly, "It's _Alan_ who needs saving, not us!" Realising it was no use trying to signal those balloonists, McEwen turned to their rabbit companions, who were all staring at him, almost as if recognising him as a second-in-command in Alan's absence. McEwen considered for a moment, "No point all of us taking the risk of doubling back; those savages might be waiting to ambush us. Shaw and I will go back and take a look; I will also require two volunteers to come along, to help us carry the wounded. If the four of us can't bring those two back, then they are beyond help." Bigwig instantly volunteered along with Blackberry and Fiver, who insisted on tagging along in hopes that his visions might help in the search, while Holly and Silver agreed to stay behind and keep the others safe until they got back.

As they turned to leave, suddenly they heard a moan; turning, they saw Fiver had gone rigid, twitching and moaning, his eyes glassed over from another vision,

"The race is on; only the lone brother can save his sibling and heart-brother. Whether both survive or both should be taken by the Black Rabbit of Inle, only Frith knows."

They looked at one another in mild confusion at this latest riddle, until Derek broke the silence, "Looks like we better hurry. Come on!" Brandishing Robbins' revolver, he and McEwen led the way back to where they had gotten separated, hoping it wasn't too late…

Hazel slowly regained consciousness. He felt horribly weakened and light-headed from blood loss; even in his semi-conscious state, he could smell the warn trickle of blood still oozing out from the arrow wound on his hind leg. He was lying in a ditch, surrounded by bushes and trees, completely hiding him from view. As he tried to move, he realised he was trapped; Alan's heavy body lay on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

Although relieved to hear the man's breathing, he realised he was in a fix; with his leg injured, not to mention being pinned down by an unconscious human more than twice his weight, Hazel knew the elil could smell his blood and would sooner put him out of his misery by _eating him_, rather that help him, no more than the savages that had been pursuing them would, should they pick up his scent. He had to get out of there and fast!

Using every ounce of strength left in his body, Hazel struggled tooth and nail to push Alan off of him; but the man was frightfully heavy and in his weakened state, made it impossible to wriggle out and was soon rewarded with further pain in his injured leg. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath and try again, he picked up a nearby scent that chilled him to the bone; a weasel was lurking nearby and getting closer, probably having picked up the scent of his blood.

Fighting the urge to panic and trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his injured leg, Hazel continued to struggle to free himself, all the while urging his friend to awake, "Come on Alan, please wake up! I do need you now!" But the man, having suffered a nasty head wound when he had been thrown off his horse, remained out cold.

As he continued to struggle, feeling himself growing weaker, about to pass out again, he suddenly heard a faint growl, which sent shivers down his spine; turning, he saw a weasel standing on the rim of the ditch, staring down at him with evil eyes and gleaming yellow teeth, dripping with saliva, ready to help itself to an easy meal…

Derek, McEwen, Bigwig, Blackberry and Fiver made their way back the way they had come, half-expecting to be ambushed by the savages at any moment, who were probably still lurking around the forest, hunting them down. Suddenly, Bigwig signalled to the others to stop, "Something's out there! Everybody down!" They all ducked under the thick undergrowth, listening to something thrashing about in the bushes a short distance away.

McEwen took out Robbins' revolver, removed the empty magazine and reloaded the single spare Robbins had been carrying on him. As he cocked the gun, ready to fire, they heard the sound again; it was the whinnying sound of a horse in distress. As they inched closer, Derek's flashlight revealed a massive stallion, with its rope reigns tangled around the branch of a tree.

"It's Alan's horse!" the engineer gasped as they approached the trashing horse and with some effort, managed to calm it down and free it from its entrapment. But, to their utmost dismay, there was no sign of its rider, other than a stain of blood on the side of the horse's mane, which Bigwig recognised by scent as Hazel's. The search party's hopes of finding their two missing companions instantly plummeted at the sight of the abandoned horse, "So, he got Hazel, placed him on the horse and then what…?"

"Buckos, come take a look at this!" Blackberry suddenly called, sniffing at something in the grass nearby. The others crowded around him and saw he had found Alan's glasses; the young professor's most inseparable gadget, other than his knife, had become latched onto the horse's matted mane when its rider had been swept off. Examining them, Derek found a faint trace of blood on the edge of the frame, possibly from a fresh head wound. They all instantly felt their hopes plummet.

"Let's follow the horse's trail backward," McEwen suggested, "If the savages had caught them, they would have taken the horse as well; perhaps they managed to take cover somewhere, and waiting for us to come and help them." Although sceptical at putting themselves in, what would probably turn out to be, more unnecessary danger, they decided to extend the search a little farther. The presence of blood alone probably meant some serious injury, if their friends weren't dead already; furthermore, these sort of things attracted elil and attempting to help them would mean a tremendous risk on their part. But their conscience of abandoning their friends to their fate was too strong, especially after what had happened to Pimpernel.

At that moment, a growl was heard in the distance, followed by a familiar voice, crying out for help. Without exchanging a word to each other, they rabbits hurried in the direction of the cry, to the rescue, while Derek and McEwen, finding themselves falling behind by the swift-moving rabbits, mounted Alan's horse and followed.

Meanwhile, Hazel lay staring into the gleaming eyes of the hungry weasel, which, finding him trapped, was slowly advancing on him, as if tormenting him for his upcoming doom. Hazel, exhausted at his futile efforts to free himself, finally gave up and braced himself for the fate most unlucky rabbits encountered: falling pray to elil. The weasel was really near to him now; he could see its ghastly yellowish teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Although it couldn't speak, the evil look in its eyes spelled out to Hazel something along the lines of, "Welcome to hunting ground, longear!" In an instant, the weasel stood towering over him and Alan, ready to strike.

Giving himself up for lost, Hazel shut his eyes and covered his head with his forepaws, bracing for pain beyond imagination. Would it be quick? He envied Alan, who would undoubtedly share his grim fate, except he wouldn't suffer as much, since he was unconscious. He briefly wondered if elil could eat humans like they could rabbits, a question that had always eluded him, and which, ironically, he'd soon find the answer to.

The weasel stood on its hind legs, extending its claws and baring its teeth, ready to strike its helpless victim; but instead of feeling sharp teeth and claws sink into his skin, Hazel suddenly heard a familiar battle roar, before the weasel emitted a squeal of pain… He opened his eyes and saw Bigwig had tackled the monster to the ground. Help had arrived in the nick of time.

The weasel, surprised by the sudden attack, yet determined to have its prey, struggled furiously against Bigwig, who fearlessly continued fighting to restrain it, while Blackberry and Fiver rushed over to help Hazel. Just as they succeeded in pulling Hazel free from under Alan's body, the weasel cuffed Bigwig across the face, knocking his attacker off of him, and renewing the attack on its intended prey.

Although free from his entrapment, the arrow wound on Hazel's leg wouldn't let him to limp for more than a few paces, let alone outrun the attacking weasel. Blackberry turned to Hazel, to apologize that they would be forced to abandon him, to save themselves, when suddenly, a bullet sailed between the buck's erect ears and struck the charging weasel directly between the eyes, killing it instantly; Derek and McEwen had caught up with them and, not missing the opportunity, the Royal Air Force pilot had taken his chance and shot the weasel dead, despite having Blackberry at close range, where he could have easily have gotten the bullet instead. Sure enough, the black-tipped ear buck rounded on McEwen in shocked rage.

"What…_what in Frith's name did you think you were doing?_" Blackberry half-gasped, half yelled, nursing the crown of his head; although the bullet hadn't _touched_ him, it had passed within less than an inch from the rabbit's scalp, allowing the buck to actually feel the heat of the deadly pellet against his head! McEwen looked puzzled, "What was I doing? Saving your bloody lives of course!" To his utmost surprise, Blackberry only looking outraged.

"You could have killed me with that…that weapon of yours! I felt its deadly power nearly touch me for Frith's sake!" McEwen frowned, starting to feel very annoyed.

"Excuse me, but what exactly was I supposed to do?" he retorted coldly, "Another two seconds and that beast would have been upon you both! I have experienced many similar occasions throughout my career, where I was forced to shoot at the enemy with fellow comrades at close range, yet never injured anyone in the slightest! Frankly, when it comes down to saving lives, this is a necessary risk…!" Unfortunately, it didn't seem to rest well with the other rabbits either.

"What in Frith's name did you do that for? What were you thinking?" Bigwig growled sternly, backing up Blackberry, "The chum is right; that was one foolish and reckless risk! Besides, I had everything under control…"

"That contraption of yours is a vile, unnatural thing!" Blackberry snapped at McEwen, "To have the power to kill or destroy anything so easily is a dangerous temptation that should never be encouraged! Can you imagine such power in the clutches of someone willing to exploit it for his own selfish gain? It could mean death and destruction beyond comprehension! How you humans can make and use all these inventions of yours without the slightest qualm of the consequences you'd be bound to pay someday, is beyond me…"

"That's enough, Blackberry!" Hazel interrupted sternly, "Reckless or not, it just saved both our lives, and I for one, am truly grateful for it. And right now, we have more important problems to focus on!" he said, gesturing in the direction of Alan, still unconscious and breathing shallowly.

McEwen took the medical kit off his shoulders and opened it. Bending down over Alan, he repeated the same procedure of checking his pulse and breathing, and inspecting for injuries; it didn't take him long to discover the ugly wound on Alan's head, caused by the impact of the branch that had knocked him off his horse. Although fortunately not deep enough to cause serious brain damage, there seemed to be quite a lot of bruising, the man's head hot to the touch from a rising fever caused by a concussion, keeping him unconscious. However, for the second time that day, Alan had been lucky. As for Hazel, McEwen was able to remove the splintered arrowhead from his leg easily, using a pair of sterilized tweezers; the wound continued to bleed but the pain lessened.

"Heavy bleeding but no damage to the nerves or bone," McEwen diagnosed, as he gave Hazel an antiseptic shot and applied a tourniquet to stop the bleeding until they could get him to a safer place, "You're a lucky fellow; with a few stitches and some rest, you'll be back on your feet shortly. Dr Johnson should be all right too, when the swelling goes down. But you'll both need a few days of rest, including no walking or physical exertion…"

"But that's too great a risk," Bigwig said grimly, "Carrying Pimpernel was hard enough, but _two_? That would hold us up, not to mention make us easy prey for elil…" But Derek came forward, holding Alan's horse by its reigns, "A stallion this size is strong enough to run while carrying both of them. We can do it." At that moment, they heard distant rustling and saw torchlight appear through the trees, "Oh damn, those savages are returning! We have to get out of here right now or we'll be chops and livers to them!"

Quickly finishing patching up the injuries, they placed Alan and Hazel on the horse and set off in a hurry. Fortunately, they encountered no further trouble as they made their way back to the riverbank, where the others were waiting for them, starting to get worried. McEwen took charge, "We shall have to continue on downstream for a while; the savages and their hounds will lose our trail in the water." Making sure everyone was accounted for, they all set off down the stream, wading through the water, as not to leave any tracks or scent the savages could pick up; McEwen and Derek rode on their horses, each holding the end of the reigns of Alan's horse, which carried its unconscious rider and Hazel, who couldn't walk because of his injured leg.

They didn't stop until they had put a couple of miles between themselves and Cowslip's warren; after finding a safe spot to spend the night, they set up camp. After making Alan and Hazel as comfortable as possible, the group settled down to sleep. Despite their fatigue and still mourning over the loss of Pimpernel, the group felt their luck had finally taken a turn for the better; they had found several new recruits, aside from Strawberry and Nildrohein, including the captive rabbits they had saved from the humanoid village, and were only another day's journey away from their new home.

**Author's notes:** This scene takes part between chapters 14 and 15; just like the previous one, I cut it for pacing reasons (even though I regret it now!). This also ties in with several other smaller scenes I added to the original text, in case you're interested. Enjoy and please review!


	3. Chapter 3 HAB Interlude

McEwen, Acorn, Buckthorn, Speedwell, Holly, Strawberry, and Blackberry set off to explore one section of the HAB, while Alan and his group took the opposite side. Making their way to the living quarters section on Level 1, they came to some sort of social area, probably the place where the refugees would get their meals, or simply enjoy each other's company, to relieve the monotonous confinement of life underground.

It soon became apparent that the HAB's architects hadn't been cheep on their work, intent on providing more than just shelter and food; there was a pub, sitting area, games hall, and even a cinema. There was no real luxury about the place; mostly just simple plexiglas, aluminium, plastic, and upholstery foam furnishings, yet sufficient to offer some means of comfort to the people who had literally become prisoners in their own sanctuary.

The concrete walls were decorated with large posters telling the story of the end of civilisation; the final 2024 Olympic Games in Paris, the last film ever shot (a live-action _Watership Down_ remake), the last book ever published, the last space mission, as well as a poster portraying a proposed future city which was obviously never built.

Although undoubtedly once jumping with life, the place was now empty and silent, save for the deadened pounding of their footsteps on the dusty floor. Although tidy and well preserved, the place was coated with grey dust from ceiling to floor, giving it a sense of long abandonment. The eerie silence that filled the place was foreboding.

Pushing on through a side door, they found themselves in the HAB's cinema; a single projector stood on a pedestal behind the topmost row of dusty seats. McEwen, who enjoyed going to the cinema since childhood, one of the first things he had started to miss since coming into the future, aside from his family, couldn't resist the temptation of powering up the projector, as they paused for a break. Meanwhile, his rabbit companions were more interested in climbing all over the seats, utterly fascinated by the soft upholstery foam padding.

"Frith above, you humans really enjoy comfort!" Buckthorn remarked as he, Speedwell and Acorn rolled about on the soft seats, sending up large clouds of dust in the process, which had accumulated there over the centuries. Holly and Blackberry stood watching McEwen curiously, as the man worked on the projector.

Unfortunately, although the equipment appeared to be intact, there weren't any disks or any other film recording media of any kind, cancelling the possibility of putting up a film. The only thing he succeeded in doing was to make the lens of the projector light up, illuminating the screen at the far end of the room with white light. As Holly stood in front of the contraption, fascinated by the luminous lens, Speedwell suddenly gasped.

"Look! It's the Black Rabbit of Inle!" The bucks all shrunk back, frozen in fear.

McEwen stood puzzled until he realised what was freaking them out; moving across the screen at the far end of the room was the shadow of a massive rabbit; Holly, who was standing in the path of the projector, was causing his shadow to fall across the screen like a shadow theatre show. Trying to hold back his laughter, the pilot whispered to Holly, "Turn round."

"You look straight into the face of the Black Rabbit and he takes you!" Holly hissed in an urgent voice, looking utterly reproachful at the sight of McEwen laughing when the grim ripper of death was prowling about, "There is no need to tempt Him…!" But McEwen calmly insisted, "Trust me."

Reluctantly, Holly obeyed and turned to stare at the screen; he instantly froze at the sight of the giant rabbit head staring back at him, his ears twitching nervously. His anxiety only seemed to increase as he saw the Black Rabbit mimicking his every move. But Blackberry, who had also spotted the curious 'mimicking', as well as his own shadow alongside that of Holly's, realised the deception.

"I don't think He's after you today Holly," he said, rolling his eyes, "I think McEwen is just having us on." By this time, Acorn and the twins had also realised what this was all about and relaxed, expressions of utmost embarrassment written on their faces.

"Oh…well…we…we knew it all along! Didn't we, Buckthorn?" Speedwell mumbled in discomfort, as the trio burst out in pretend laughter. Holly raised an eyebrow, "You should definitely tell Bluebell about this…" The twins, particularly Speedwell, frowned, "Don't you dare make a laughing matter with that sod over this, or I'll give you a tongue lashing…!"

"Don't you take that tone with me laddie buck, unless you're looking for a good thrashing!" Holly snapped back dangerously, abandoning his humour, "I may not be your Captain of Owsla any longer, but I will not tolerate such disrespect!" Then his voice softened somewhat, remembering why the topic regarding Bluebell was so sensitive to Speedwell, "And don't worry; I don't amuse myself by prying into another rabbit's business."

Finding nothing more of interest and realising they were wasting time, when they should be looking for a way out, they pressed on. Further down, they came to the pub and dining saloon. Plastic and aluminium chairs stood neatly around tables, which were bolted to the floor, as well as a massive glass buffet stood against the far wall. It was then when McEwen realised how hungry he was; none of them had eaten anything since morning and after a day of hard labour, the thought of a large brandy sounded lovely to the Royal Air Force pilot.

The pub and dining saloon, in contrast to the rest of the HAB, was decorated with various city relics, which were mounted on the bare concrete walls, including posters, parts of automobiles and other machinery, clothing, a traffic light, a bicycle, a kayak, sport utensils, tourist souvenirs, and even a familiar painting by Aldo Galli, _The Blessing of El-ahrairah_. At the sight of the painting, the rabbits gasped.

"Your kind had even _witnessed_ the Blessing of our Prince?" McEwen chuckled, "No guys, not exactly; before Drake created you out of a hodgepodge, so to speak, your life existed as a story, which he _adapted_ and used it to form the basis of your language and culture."

"_Created_ us?" Blackberry repeated in slight disapproval, "Sometimes, you humans amaze me; all these…abilities of yours, playing Frith at every turn…" But McEwen wasn't paying attention, as he searched the room for food and drink, but finding nothing; aside from some salt, pepper, and some bottles of dried-up sauces, there wasn't a single crumb to be found, all the utensils sitting clean and tidy in their lockers; even the tap was bone-dry.

Walking on through another side door, they came to the kitchens; long counters and ovens stood in rows, covered with all sorts of kitchen utensils, all coated in dust. Unfortunately, here too, there was nothing to be found, aside from dusty kitchen utensils that hadn't been used in ages, and some empty food containers awaiting disposal.

"This can't be all they had," McEwen reasoned, staring at the empty bottles and cans, "They must have had some storeroom or larder in here somewhere." Catching a glimpse of a service elevator, which led to some room right underneath the kitchens, his eyes lit up, "Let's go."

Using a nearby fire escape stairwell (the elevator was out of order), they descended to the next level and found a massive food storage compartment, resembling a supermarket warehouse interior; rows of steel shelves, still stacked with packaged food, enough to sustain a small community for years, could be seen everywhere.

Picking up a crowbar, McEwen cracked open a crate nearest to him; it contained about twenty bottles of Irish cider resting on some straw bedding. Using the corkscrew from his Swiss Army knife, he uncorked the first bottle; a strong smell of foaming cider came out, almost as if it had been frozen in time even after all these centuries, much like ancient wine found in Egyptian tombs. He took a sip.

"Bloody marvellous!" he commented, rolling the drink on his tongue, "I suppose this dispels that stupid belief that even fermented beverages can go flat and spoil. If anything, I daresay this would win first prize at a beverage-tasting competition back in my time. And who knows what whiskey or rum would taste like here…" The rabbits only looked on with an expression of amazement and disgust; the sight and alien smell of the foaming lager gave them the impression of something foul, rather that something _drinkable_.

"Your kind drinks _that_?" Holly asked, cringing in disgust as he sniffed the cider, "It smells more like poisoned water to me!" McEwen chuckled, "This is not _water_ Holly; all alcoholic beverages are brewed for the purpose of some pleasant drinking, not _sustain_ you. Tell you what; why don't you try some and find out?" The bucks looked anything but keen at the offer, until Acorn spoke up, "Bigwig always said, who dares wins."

With the man holding the bottle up to his lips (Acorn couldn't on his own without any exposable thumbs), Acorn took his first swing of cider; for an instant, his mouth froze and his eyes widened. Just as McEwen was beginning to question the wisdom of giving cider to a rabbit, knowing from his wife that animals shouldn't consume alcoholic beverages (although he had no idea how the metabolism of these future rabbits worked), Acorn finally swallowed in obvious enjoyment, "By Frith, he's right! It's unlike anything I have ever tasted in my life, but it tastes good!"

Encouraged by Acorn, the rest soon joined in; they spent the next hour going through the supplies in the storeroom, trying different types of food. The rabbits in particular, were having the time of their lives, trying this 'strange human food' while McEwen was only eager to satisfy his hunger. Aside from a fine collection of beverages, including wine, rum, whiskey, and beer, they also found plenty of canned goods, including beans, sauerkraut, jam, corned beef, and fruit-in-juice. With the exception of a few cans and jars, whose seals had been broken over the centuries, exposing their contents to decay, the majority were still good as new, completely untouched.

There were also many packages of dry goods, including rice, cereals, chocolate, raisins, and peanuts. Unfortunately most of these, aside from long since having turned stale, had also fallen pray to beetles, which had hatched inside the wrapping. The only product that still seemed to be fresh was a collection of snack cakes, rich in preservatives, as well as a few Christmas fruitcakes coated in brandy, which had preserved them. Other boxes contained packages of freeze-dried foods, including powdered eggs and milk, and even some sweet goods, like ice cream, similar to those used in space missions. Of all the supplies, these seemed the ones preserved the best, displaying not a single trace of decay.

Although no nutritionist, McEwen could easily tell that the inhabitants of the HAB had been living on a generous diet, meeting all their nutritious needs. And with water and air recycled, and an unlimited power supply, the HAB was heaven for the refugees of the Apocalypse. Then again, how did they just disappear without a trace? Starvation was definitely out of the question, given that the HAB was still well stocked; and even if some unforeseen accident had occurred, how could the _bodies_ have disappeared? With the exception of Drake's corpse, so far they had found no signs of any other bodies or evidence of what had happened to the rest of the inhabitants. Why would they abandon the base, leaving everything they had behind?

After having stuffed themselves, the group continued on their search. Moving on through the storage level, they came to another compartment; this one was made up of glass walls, with rows of aluminium mounts, lined with plant pots, water sprinklers, and powerful light projectors, currently out of order. They had found the HAB's greenhouse, which functioned on artificial light, as a substitute for the sun, supplying the HAB with a vegetable garden and breathable oxygen. However, in contrast to the other sections they had seen so far, the greenhouse was a mess; after the generator and mainframe computer, which controlled the artificial sunlight, had gone out of action, the greenhouse had gone dark and all the plants left to rot; now only a chamber drenched from ceiling to floor in foul-smelling mouldy goo, which was once appetizing greenhouse products, remained. Feeling the contents of his stomach about to spill from the overwhelming smell, McEwen shut the glass door, sealing off the gastronomic nightmare within.

Nearby, they also found the embryonics cryostorage; a massive chamber, which once held tanks of embryos and seeds, preserved in liquid nitrogen, like a time capsule of life, waiting for the Earth to become habitable again, when they could be used to restore an extinct ecosystem. However, just like mentioned in Drake's log, an explosion in the refrigeration system had destroyed the chamber long ago, leaving behind nothing but scorched wreckage, all the embryos and seedlings long gone.

Further down, they came to another section of the storage areas, which was reserved for storing valuable or dangerous goods; divided into sealed vaults, each enforced with steel walls and armoured doors, there was no venturing inside. Through tiny observation windows in the 9-inch-thick steel doors, they could see all sorts of valuables, including the national art, as well as the nation's gold. McEwen rolled his eyes; in this world, all these treasures would be worth less to them than dirt. With the exception of one…

The last vault was an armoury, where the HAB's security force kept its arsenal under lock and key; although not any weapons of mass destruction, there was enough light artillery and ammunition to supply a small army…or _used_ to be, for the vault was found already broken into. The interior yielded only a number of empty racks and cases lying piled on the floor, the weapons themselves long since stolen by some unknown intruder. The only thing left were a few canisters of nitroglycerine, probably leftover from the demolitions while building the HAB, which the thief hadn't been able to snatch away.

McEwen felt disappointed; firearms would have been a great advantage to them in this wilderness filled with giant predators and savages, and now the Efrafans hunting them down. The dust and cobwebs accumulating all over the place told them the theft had occurred long ago, with no clue as to who or why…

Meanwhile, back in the control room, Derek was still busy trying to get the HAB's state-of-the-art systems back online with little success, while the does watched him curiously. After gathering up the manuals and schematics for the equipment, which had been scattered around the room, and reading them carefully, he had tried restoring the systems themselves, only to find them unresponsive; only the power supply, emergency and backup units remained functional, while all communications, imagery, recycling and security systems were down. No matter what he tried, there was still no response from the mainframe.

"Why are you wasting your time, fretting over that ridiculous contraption?" Clover asked as they watched Derek grow irritated at his lack of progress, "You act as if you expect it to talk back to you…" Despite his irritation, Derek laughed at their ignorance.

"That's exactly what a computer is supposed to do girls…in a manner of speaking that is," he said, seeing the expressions of disbelief written on the does' faces, "Computers are much like living brains; they can think beyond the capabilities of any living being, however have no_ independence of thought_, which is why they remain idle unless we control them," he explaining, giving the does his best description of a computer.

"_Living brains_?" asked Violet in confusion, "They look nothing like brains to me, and I have seen plenty before…" She paused, realising she had said more than what she had intended. Derek and the other does looked at her curiously, "Since when have _you_ actually seen a _brain_ up close? Are you rabbits into autopsies or something…?"

"From the incident, when I witnessed the slaughter of Hazel and Fiver's father, Walnut; he and his mate were like guardians to me after Mother was driven out of the warren during the White Blindness. I had the rare benefit, or should I say _misfortune_, of seeing his mangled body, which the Owsla had brought back up close after the hunters pursuing his squad had crushed his skull open with a rock…" She lowered her hear, holding back a sob, "That's how I became a healer doe; I swore I would never lose another beloved." They all looked at her in sympathy, "I am sorry, I know how hard it must be…"

"That's all right," Violet replied softly, "It was long ago and I shouldn't be dwelling on the past like this. By Frith, I've become foolish… I am sorry." Nildrohein nuzzled her in reassurance, "There is nothing to be sorry for, dear. I, myself, until quite recently, was nothing but a slave to that mad rabbit of my father Cowslip," she spat in disgust, finally feeling at ease to confront her own demons.

"We all knew all too well what was going on but couldn't find the courage to speak up; Cowslip would regularly threatened us all with severe consequences if we attempted to warn any newcomers of the danger, or even _behave_ as if anything was wrong. I remember an occasion with my sister Marigold, whose mate, Hickory, a friend of Strawberry's, attempted to speak up against Cowslip. He cornered her alone in her burrow one night and…forced himself one her as a warning to Hickory, that all their friends would suffer the same punishment if he stepped out of line again. We all lived in so much fear and uncertain, that we had long since lost our courage to dissert or fight back; we could only just keep on living that false life…until you freed us. Strawberry and I owe you an immense gratitude." Derek smiled.

"Alan knew all about you guys even before we met; he was determined to do something about it. Dear God, he gave me such a fright when that bastard Robbins shot him. Cowslip was luckier that he deserved; if Alan had been killed, I would strapped him to a tree by his hind legs and leave him to dry in the sun until the crows came and pecked his eyes out, just like I would have done to Robbins. That scum better have enough brains never to come near us again…" he said darkly, remembering the incident at Cowslip's warren, which had nearly cost them their lives.

Turning back to the task at hand, he sighed in frustration at his lack of progress, "We aren't getting anywhere this way; let's take a look at the works of this thing. Perhaps it needs a little of my personal touch…"

Turning to the large armoured casing standing in the centre of the room, which housed the mainframe computer unit, he got to work, trying to force it open; to his surprise, he found it already unlocked and it opened easily. Staring inside, his jaw dropped; the trays containing the motherboards and central processors were all scorched as a result of overheating or some catastrophic short-circuit. Turning to the cooling system control panel, Derek saw it had been cut, deliberately by the look of it. It seemed some unknown saboteur had turned off the fans of the cooling system after bypassing the safety sensors, which would have otherwise triggered an emergency shutdown, sparing the system.

"It doesn't look like this hunk of junk will be doing us any good now," he muttered in disappointment, "Interesting development; why would someone want to sabotage it…?" Turning back to the visual log, he resumed work, in an attempt to restore that last damaged recording. The was no further doubt that something suspicious had happened here and he was going to find out what it was, one way or another…

**Author's note:** This was a deleted scene from between chapters 20 and 21. I deleted it because it was basically a repetition of the group discovering evidence of Sven and Hemlock's scheme. By the way, it also ties in with several other smaller deleted scenes, which I have restored to the original text. Enjoy and PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4 Last relic of humanity

Alan and his five remaining companions stared at horror at their dismal surroundings; after flying through the time warp expecting to find themselves transported back to the 21st century, instead they had come out in a dead, desolate world, _even deeper_ into the future, where the Earth had reached the final stages of its existence. They had barely escaped the catastrophe caused by Project Black Inferno in the 28th century, only to encounter a new nightmare.

This time, they had travelled a long distance forward through time, probably hundred millions of years, judging from the awful changes that had taken place. Gone was the industrial world of the 21st century; gone was the natural paradise of the 28th century; now the surface of the Earth had been reduced to a semi-dark, barren wasteland, which stretched out to the horizon. Even the sky, once blue and bright in daylight hours, was now a brownish oxide-like colour, indicating that most of the Earth's oceans must have long since dried up. But the most disturbing sight of all was the red giant, which was the Earth's dying sun, now grown so large it took up nearly a tenth of the sky, its photosphere dim enough to be observed with the naked eye, indicating that it was now past its hydrogen combustion stage and on its helium reserves, as it reached its dying stages.

Through the twilight of the dying sun, Alan could make out the pale stars in the sky, all of them having since merged into completely new constellations. He could vaguely make out the once constellation of Scorpio which had merged with Proximal Centauri, among other familiar patterns of stars. The Milky Way had long since disintegrated and scattered.

Staring at the sun, he saw a large black shadow moving across the red giant; the moon or another planet was causing an eclipse that could only hide a tenth of the enlarged sun. Then he realised it was too big to be the moon; it was none other than Jupiter, the largest gas giant of their solar system! It seemed even the Earth had since left its old orbit around the sun and merged with the Jovian System, becoming another satellite of Jupiter. This explained how the planet had been spared from annihilation as the sun had expended over the centuries, swallowing up Mercury, Venus and Mars.

Alan barely had enough time to comprehend the fact that they had travelled through time the _wrong way_, when he realised he was having difficulty breathing; the Earth had stopped spinning long ago, disrupting the wind and thermal cycles, and allowing the atmosphere to slowly bleed away into space. Now, what little air still remained attached to the globe had an atmospheric pressure of that normally found at high altitude, where one couldn't breathe without oxygen. Then, the effects of freezing struck; with the sun in its dying stages – which made up for the lack of ionisation -, the Earth was in a deep freeze. Although there was no traces of ice outside - the planet had long since dried up as a result of the Sun's enlargement, which had incinerated the Earth before it had cooled -, the cold could still be felt to its fullest extent. Combined together, the inhospitable environment of the far future was quickly taking its toll on Alan and his companions.

Feeling close to passing out from lack of oxygen, his fingers growing numb from the sub-zero temperatures, Alan instantly did the first thing his instinct told him: pushing the stick forward, he sent the plane into a nosedive, diving for a breathable altitude. For a few seconds there was no change and he was beginning to think the atmosphere was too thin all the way to ground level and that they would soon perish from suffocation; then, as they reached 500ft, the pressure begun to build up again and they were able to take a breath.

The plane was now gliding right above the ground; with the engine having stopped when going through the time warp, the aircraft was about to stall. With no other choice, Alan barely managed to level out, bracing for an emergency landing. Struggling with all his might, he managed to get it back under control just as the wheels touched down on the barren surface of the future earth. The undercarriage vibrated dangerously as they skidded across the dry soil, which hadn't been disturbed for countless millennia. Alan pulled back on the brakes until the aircraft came to a gentle stop at the foot of a mountain. Turning round to his companions, he saw they were all unharmed, if not a bit shell-shocked from the endless desolation surrounding them outside.

"Everybody all right?"

"Yes, nobody _dead_, if that's what you're asking," replied Bigwig gruffly before his voice turned fearful, " Where in Frith's name have you brought us? What is this place? The Land of _Elil-rah_?" Alan shook his head.

"No, I just accidentally took us in the wrong direction; instead of going back to my own time, we've gone even farther..."

"So this place is the _future_?" Pipkin shuddered, as they stared at the dark desolation in horror, "What's happened to our world?"

"The Earth, like every other planet, has reached its end; ever since our sun aged and dimmed, the planet has been rendered dark, dry, barren, and frozen." explained Alan, rubbing his hands to regain use of his fingers, which were growing numb from the cold, "But we needn't concern ourselves with that; our destination lies elsewhere in time." He turned back to the controls, "Everybody brace yourselves; we're taking off again, to give that time warp another try." As he turned to restart the engine, he saw they had a problem; only a few yards ahead of them was a massive rock pile, making the ground unsuitable for take-off; the only way was in the direction from which they had landed.

"We have to turn this thing around for take-off; we shall have to get out and push." As he had expected, none of his rabbit friends seemed too keen on going outside. Even with the pilots' heat set to maximum, the cabin was barely above survivable conditions; venturing outside would definitely be far worse, to say the least. But, knowing they had no option, nobody argued as Alan unlatched the cabin door, letting a breeze of freezing cold, bone-dry air pour in. He turned to his companions.

"Bigwig, Hawkbit and Hazel, you three come with me; Pipkin, you stay here with Fiver and try and keep him warm." But Hazel wouldn't leave his brother's side, who still lay comatose, breathing shallowly, barely alive. Seeing that they were running out of time, Alan turned to Pipkin instead, "All right lad, you come; we need to lighten this thing as much as possible." Leaving Hazel and Fiver in what little warmth the cabin had to offer, the rest of the group disembarked.

As Alan had feared, venturing outside was anything but easy; the air of the future earth was unpleasantly odourless, so dry it made them want to choke and splatter with every breath, and with such a low oxygen concentration, it was a struggle just to stay conscious. Besides that, the cold was so intense, with sub-zero temperatures exceeding those of the Earth's polar caps, only with no ice, they were quickly beginning to feel the effects of exposure; Alan in particular, who was stripped down to only his shredded pants and t-shirt, was in agony from the cold.

The soil war dry and barren with no traces of life remaining; even the most primitive and endurable mosses and lichens, which were always present even in the most inhospitable places on the planet, had vanished. Now an endless desert of reddish brown soil, rock, and old lava flows, stretched out to the horizon.

A quick glance at the formation of the surrounding terrain told Alan they had landed in the depths of, what had once been, the floor of a deep ocean, now long since evaporated from when the Earth had been cooked by the growing sun. A few mountain ranges were visible in the distance, including an extinct volcano, at which's summit they now stood. Struggling to cope with the inhospitable environment, which had long since lost its ability to sustain human or animal life alike, they got to work.

With Bigwig and Hawkbit pushing on the left wing, and with Alan on the tail, they slowly managed to turn the plane around, so it was facing the flat plain where it had first landed. It wasn't easy; although the aircraft wasn't all that heavy, the cold was affecting the aluminium of the fuselage, making it painful to the touch. Just as they had finished, Alan heard a scream; he turned and saw Pipkin had fallen down a hole at the foot of a nearby rocky alcove. Hurrying over to the edge, they saw it opened into some sort of deep dark cave, which seemed to lead into the side of the extinct, unnamed volcano towering above them.

Alan kneeled over the edge and called into the blackness below, "Pipkin! Pipkin, answer me! Are you still alive? Can you hear me?" He was scared stiff at the thought that maybe the hole was deep and that Pipkin may have been killed or gravely injured in his fall. But that wasn't to be the case, when they all heard the little buck's voice coming from the bottom, "I hear you Alan. I am down here!"

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so… But the wall is too high. I can't get out!"

Relieved that his little friend was still alive, Alan called down to him, "All right Pipkin, stay where you are and keep calling! We are coming down to get you!" Bigwig turned to stare at him, "How exactly do you propose we go down there after him? If he can't climb out, then do you think we could do any better?" Alan realised Bigwig was right; the shaft was vertical, not to mention completely dark, making venturing down there extremely risky. To add to their troubles, they had no rope or flashlight needed for such a task. Meanwhile, they were standing there, slowly freezing to death on this dead future earth. But they couldn't leave Pipkin trapped down there, not while knowing he was still alive and waiting for them to come to his rescue.

Rushing back to the plane, Alan picked up his discarded shirt which was being used as a survival blanket for Fiver, giving Hazel an apologetic look; while Fiver needed all the comfort he could get, Pipkin needed help more urgently. Then, remembering that the hole was pitch black and that he had no flashlight or matches to light his way, he turned on the Cessna's powerful landing lights, which were facing the entrance to the cave; the powerful beams of light shone across the plain and straight down the hole, giving him greater visibility.

Hurrying back to the cave entrance, he wrung his shirt, fashioning a short length of rope, and secured it around a jabbed rock projecting from the edge of the shaft. Quickly blowing onto his palms to regain sensation, he grasped his makeshift rope and pulled hard, testing its strength; it held firmly. Dismissing the prospect that it might still be too short to reach the bottom, Alan lowered himself over the edge until he was grasping it from the very tip. For a few seconds, his feet couldn't feel any bottom and he feared it was no use; then he felt the top of a steep incline formed by landslides, creating a rough, yet accessible path down into the cave.

Letting go of the rope, he felt himself slide down the incline, leading into a cavern. The light from the plane's landing gear revealed an arched cavern filled with centuries-old stalactites and stalagmites. The floor was solid as granite with ripples formed in the stone; an ancient lava flow, undoubtedly originating from the volcano above his head, had flown through here millennia ago until it had solidified when the volcano had become extinct. The walls were embedded with an impressive collection of precious gems often found in volcanic tubes; diamonds, rubies, amethysts and other crystalline feldspar, as well as large quantities of ores and minerals including sulphur, coal, magnesium and lots more riches of the Earth's interior could be seen sparkling everywhere, illuminating the cavern like a ballroom with chandeliers. All these precious materials, which had once played a crucial role in man's civilisation, had once more merged with the earth from which they had been moulded. And there was more.

As he surveyed the cavern, he noticed some of the walls of the cavern seemed to be embedded with some sort of cave drawings. His curiosity overpowering, he walked over for a closer look and saw they were the fossilised remains of long extinct creatures, dating back from prehistoric eras, to Alan's time, the era of the rabbits, and even a number of unidentified species which had probably existed millions of years after the era of the lagomorphs. It was like a naturally created museum, left behind for an intelligent being to discover in this far future. But this was not the time for naturally history surveys.

Looking frantically around for Pipkin, he noticed something else which took his breath away; one of the largest stalagmites nearest to him had something peculiar – almost artificial - embedded in its base: a flat crystalline surface, much like a glass pane with the transparent image of a man in it; a man who seemed to _be moving and talking_, in a world where life didn't even exist anymore! Sure enough, almost as if sensing his presence, the 'man' turned and stared in his direction.

"_Welcome to HAL System Dr Johnson. It's been a long time."_ Staring dumbstruck at the sight, Alan nearly burst out laughing as he finally recognised the still-functioning remains of HAL, the HAB's holographic artificial intelligence librarian and knowledge keeper.

It was incredible; although the device's steel pedestal had long since turned to dust, its computer and eternal power source, which were encased in an armoured, non-degradable cobalt casing, had survived through all these countless millennia. Even the screen, also made from some eternal crystal alloy, had also survived the passage of time and was still functioning. Now, the holographic image of the digital librarian, although faded both in resolution and sound as a result of millions of years worth of glitches, was still visible on the dirty screen. It was then that Alan realised he wasn't alone; standing before HAL was none other than Pipkin, who had also wondered off into the cave. The buck turned and smiled at Alan as the man hurried over to him.

"You all right lad?"

"Yes, I am fine," replied Pipkin as they turned back to stare at HAL, who was going on with his monologue, as if he didn't have a care in the world, _"By the way, happy 2,037,800,723th birthday Dr Johnson. I regret I had no means of transmitting a birthday e-greeting to you…"_

"Cheers, you dumb computer," Alan replied, rolling his eyes at HAL's artificial, narrow-minded logic, which distinguished him from a real human being, in spite of his database of broad knowledge, "What is the date now, anyway?"

"_Well, in accordance to the now obsolete 365-day Christian calendar, the current date should be the 2__nd__ June 2,037,802,701 A.D.,"_ replied the artificial intelligence, conjuring various icons showing the gradual changes in the solar system over the centuries, _"However, that calendar has been dead for over two billion years, ever since the second impact with the planet Apocalypse, which permanently altered the Earth's orbit, changing the terrestrial calendar to a 1,632-day year and a 69-hour day, as well as the zero tilt on the Earth's axis caused as a result of the loss of the moon, eliminating the seasons cycle."_

Reminding himself that this wasn't the time for history lessons, Alan decided to cut the conversation short, "Sorry HAL but we have to go. Come on Pipkin." As they turned and headed back towards the cave entrance, Alan became aware that the light coming from the plane, which had been lighting their way down here, had gone out. What had happened? The rest of their companions couldn't have assumed they were lost and left without them, as they didn't even have the faintest idea of how to fly the plane.

Piling up a few stray stones to form a step to reach the rope, Alan tucked Pipkin under his arm and after blowing into his fists a couple of times to warm up his freezing fingers, climbed back up. Bigwig and Hawkbit were waiting for them up top, looking worried and half-frozen to death from the intense cold.

"I am glad to see you're all right," Bigwig said gruffly as he lifted Pipkin out by the scruff of his neck, "Alan, there is something wrong with the…that hrududu of yours. It looks as if it's fallen asleep or something…" Turning to look at the plane, Alan saw the lights had indeed gone out; hurrying over, he realised, with sick dread, that, by foolishly leaving the landing lights and cabin heater on, as well as because of the delay caused by his chit-chat with HAL down in the cave, he had let the plane's battery go flat. Now they couldn't start up the plane's engine again, as the ignition system required power. _This day just keeps getting better and better…_

Pulling himself together so he could think straight, Alan ordered all his companions back onboard. Then, setting the ignition to standby, he went and stood in front of the aircraft. Remembering his flight instructor showing him this trick years ago of how to jump-start a dead plane by manually spinning the prop, to stimulate the dynamo, he grasped one of the blades with both hands, and sent it spinning; the engine gave a faint whirring sound but didn't start. He tried it a second and a third and even a forth time, but it was no use; with the cold and lack of oxygen, he couldn't find the strength to make it work.

A feeling of utter despair swept over him as he stood there like an idiot, contemplating their fate; to die stranded in this darkened future of their long gone world. In his desperation, it occurred to him that if their preserved remains were found someday by some intelligent being, their presence on a frozen world millions of years dead, would lead to some interesting scientific speculations! Perhaps they would serve as a time capsule of two magnificent eras of the Earth's forgotten history…Suddenly, as if inspired by his own thoughts, an idea occurred to him: HAL was still functioning down in the cave by means of his eternal power cell; that would make a perfect jump-starter for the plane.

Hurrying up to his companions, he said, "I will be back soon; you lot stay put and snuggle up as close together as you can to keep warm." Without giving another word of explanation, he hurried back to the cave. He walked up to HAL, who beamed at having another visitor so soon, _"Welcome to HAL System. How may I…"_

"I need your power supply, HAL,"said Alan in a desperate voice,"This is a matter of life or death. How do I eject it from your casing?" The artificial librarian frowned,_ "What do you require my power source for? If it is removed, it can't be replaced and it will mean the end of my existence."_

_Please don't let this thing be programmed to respond when it's threatened_, Alan prayed silently as he tried to reason out with HAL.

"Humanity is long extinct and the Earth is dying; you have served your purpose. The only last service you can offer is to help us get back to our time to save the future." The artificial librarian seemed to consider it, _"I understand… Indeed, I have long since served my purpose; and I was designed with the purpose of serving humanity to the end. Therefore, I would be honoured to grant this last request, even if it means my own self- destruction. Be advised, Dr Johnson, you are dying; in this environment with an oxygen concentration of 8,2%, atmospheric pressure of 7,1psi, exposure to ultra-violet radiation of 162rads, and freezing environmental temperature of –57 Celsius, you have an estimated further 6 minutes before loss of consciousness and 11 minutes till death…"_

"I know, just get on with it!"

"_Very well then. Initiating cell ejection sequence."_

The cylindrical base of the device started humming; then the cap on one end begun to turn counter-clockwise until it cracked open, revealing the beer-can-shaped battery behind the armoured seal. The heard HAL's last words before the screen went dark for the final time as the last surviving relic of humanity reached its end, _"Farewell Dr Johnson and good luck!"_

Alan fell silent as the artificial intelligence died. But as he tried to extract the loose battery, he found it wouldn't budge; a lump of ancient lava was lying across the seal, making it impossible to draw the cylindrical-like power cell from its casing. Picking up a stone, he tried to chip away some of the rock but it was too tough to crumble; he needed a pickaxe or a small explosive charge to crack it.

With time running out fast, he turned round and headed towards a vain of magnesium in the cave wall. From his wallet, he took out his credit card to use as a scraping tool; luckily the layer was crumbly and he soon had a handful of magnesium nuggets in his hand, and hurried back to HAL. Scraping off some ice crystals from his clothes and hair with his free hand and placing them in his mouth to thaw them, he spat them on the magnesium; there was an instant chemical reaction as the magnesium reacted with the moisture, producing hydrogen gas. Cramming the nuggets between the lava lump and HAL's jammed casing, he took out McEwen's lighter from his pocket and lit it. Covering his eyes, he held the flame close to the magnesium.

The hydrogen suddenly ignited and exploded; although only a minor explosion, much like a firecracker, it did the trick; as Alan turned back to look at the result, he saw the lump of lava had cracked and he was able to chip it away, allowing him to extract the ancient battery from its housing, "Come to Papa!"

The atomic power cell felt warm to the touch, as it glowed in the dark from its radioactive core, indicating it still had some juice left. Giving it a kiss, Alan hurried out of the cave and back to the plane. Opening up the engine cover, he unscrewed the battery's positive and negative terminal cables and touched them to HAL's cell, sending a revival spark into the dead battery. After a few minutes of recharging, he reattached the cables and tried the ignition again; this time, the prop started spinning as the engine splattered and finally restarted; the plane's lights and instruments came back to life as the revived battery fully recharged itself from the moving dynamo. Uttering a cheer of joy, he discarded HAL's power cell and climbed back onboard.

"All right chaps, we are getting out of here!"

Punching the throttle on full power, he sent the aircraft speeding across the plain, ignoring the violent thumping caused by the wheels encountering potholes and stones in its path. Soon, they were airborne again. Catching a glimpse of the fading time warp in the distance above him, he set a course for it; but as he levelled the aircraft at 10,000ft, he felt the cold and the thinness of the air – even worse up here than what it was at ground level - finally get the better of him. Everything started spinning and darkening as he fought to retain his rapidly failing grip on consciousness and fly the plane.

_Don't go to sleep now. Just think of flying…think of flying… Just a little more…_ Alan struggled to fight the fainting sensation, knowing that if he blacked out now and lost control, they would all be doomed. But it was no use. A second before the blackness of unconsciousness finally overwhelmed him, in a last desperate effort, he reached forward and hit the autopilot switch, and turned the heading select marker on the indicator counter-clockwise. Just as he slipped into blackout, the autopilot assumed control of the aircraft, flying the ghost plane back through the time warp and into the past…

**Author's note:** This is an extended scene from the end of chapter 29. However, in the final draft I decided to remove it as I was of no importance to the main plotline. By the way, the jump-starting procedure used for the plane is the real procedure used on a car, which shares a similar power system. There is also a spoiler for a proposed second sequel to the original story (check my profile notes for details). Enjoy and please review!


	5. Chapter 5 The Lost Knife

Alan walked along the familiar footpath, which led towards the old graveyard of what, centuries ago, had been the village of Newtown Common. Although it had only been a little over a month since that fateful day, it felt like a lifetime ago; a lifetime since he had finally made peace with his past and begun his new life in the new world. Except perhaps for one thing…

_Ronald Fields…_

The realisation that this insane sadistic murderer known as Russell Robbins, who had killed his wife, had in fact once been his _friend_ still haunted him. Ever since he had killed his former friend and turned-enemy, after having heard Fields' story as they had fought to the death, had left him with a great feeling of insecurity and uncertainty. Had he done the right thing? Or was he now branded as a murderer himself?

Although all his friends and family had insisted that it had been his duty and that it had prevented many other innocents from suffering in the future (which, ironically, he knew to be true), he still felt Fields' fate had been a result of his _own_ mistakes, rather than Robbins'. Even after they had buried him with decency and returned to their lives, the memories of the final confrontation had refused to leave Alan alone at night. With the torment of his family's deaths extinguished since he had recovered Lucy and started his new life, a new one had taken its place; over and over again, he would hear Fields' accusations in his head, up until the point when his nemesis had been finally struck down. Although technically it had been Fields' own blow that had brought about his demise, not to mention it was his justified comeuppance for everything he had done, Alan couldn't help but feel that he should have at least tried to handle the situation differently.

For the past few weeks, whenever he wasn't working, training in Bigwig's now easy-going Owsla, minding the rapidly growing numbers of kittens in the warren, or simply enjoying the companionship of his friends and family, he would sit alone for hours, going over all his memories of Fields; as he knew him as a teenager and than, as Robbins. It was during these long hours that he had come to realise just how little he had really known Fields.

When they had first met as children at the orphanage, Fields had always been rather shunned by his friends; although none of them were ever cruel or abusive towards him in any way, they accepted him into their circle of friendship more out of _sympathy_ rather than true friendship. Combined with the fact that Fields had been a rather sickly, arrogant, and on some occasions, pompous sort of kid, Alan and his friends had continued to put up with him. As for Fields, he had looked up to them more like _bodyguards_ rather than true friends. Despite that, Alan, who sympathised for Fields, because of his traumatic background of his parents abandoning him while they were actual orphans, had somewhat accepted him as a friend; Fields too, had seemed to look up to him more than Derek or Hotdog. Then again, he too had privately regarded Derek and Hotdog as closer friends than Fields.

After they had come of age and started their lives together, Fields had finally seemed to achieve something, when he started dating Mary Millard, a fellow university student of theirs, who lived on the same block of the student dormitory they shared. Fields' first ever triumph had been short-lived however, when on the evening of their first date a couple of muggers had ambushed them, and Fields, who had developed an instinct of running from trouble rather than standing his ground, had fled for help, leaving Mary at the mercy of the two thugs, who were actually more interested in _her_ than him. Alan, who had coincidently been walking nearby at the time, upset of Josie having broken up with him at the time, had stepped in and taken care of the situation; ironically, this had only turned out to be the biggest mistake of his life… or wasn't it?

Although technically, it had been none other than Fields' own fault for Mary breaking up with him as a result of the incident, and turning to Alan instead, the man couldn't help but feel that Fields had been right when he said that he had taken advantage of his misfortune; he _had_ had a soft spot for Mary even before he had broken up with Josie. Even though, he most definitely hadn't done anything to _encourage_ Mary to break up with Fields, he hadn't actually tried to patch things up between them either. All he had done was offer Fields some comforting words and then gone off and started courting Mary, who had sworn she was finished with Fields.

This had come as a terrible blow to Fields who had instantly severed his friendship with Alan, as well as his friends for not backing him up, and disappeared out of their lives…until he reappeared, having undergone that hideous transformation into the cold-blooded mercenary Russell Robbins. Alan's first view of Robbins, a view shared by all of his friends, was that of a deranged murderer, who had to be destroyed without a second thought. But then, with the realisation that Robbins was actually _Fields_, as well for the _reason_ behind his transformation, Alan had felt a lot less keen on killing his former friend and sworn enemy. Then again, he knew he had had no choice; his spiritual journey into the land beyond life had shown him that Robbins or rather _Fields'_ hatred of him would never stop as long as he lived; the evil possessing his former friend would have continued to inflict harm or this world that was the centre of Alan's happiness, up to the point of destroying it. In spite of his hopes that Fields might have been able to find some redemption without having to resort to killing him, Fields' demise proved to be the only way to spare his friends and family from terrible suffering in the future.

Although every single rabbit on the Down as well as his family had seen it as an act of heroism and justice, Alan was still finding it difficult to live with himself after what he had done. Upon his return to the Down, he had focused on regaining his health and then helping his friends out with their task of building their new home, while struggling to suppress the painful memories of his lost former friend. Still, the thought of Fields had continued haunting his mind without end; therefore, he had decided to return to the man's resting place one last time. Although he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do or find there, Alan felt he still had some unfinished business left at the spot where his former friend's remains now lay buried.

So, early that morning, before anyone was about, Alan had sneaked out of the warren, mounted his horse and headed off towards Cowslip's warren. He had considered taking an escort with him but then decided this was something he had to do alone; an angry telling-off from Bigwig for disappearing without informing anyone where he was going, would be worth the trouble. The journey had gone without incident; he had encountered no elil on the way and had only met Cowslip at the Hall of Bones, who had simply ignored him. The semi-mad rabbit had returned to his abandoned warren shortly after recovering from his injuries, with an order to stay away from Watership Down. With all his subjects deserted or dead, and with his human custodians gone, Cowslip had been forced to start a new life as a hermit with the exiled Vervain as his only companion.

He had reached the graveyard; the place hadn't changed since the final confrontation a month ago. The disturbed grass and earth was still clearly visible all over the place, as a tribute to the recent struggle. But Alan had his attention elsewhere; at a lonely grave with a weatherworn tombstone of the once false grave, spelling the name, 'Russell Robbins'. In contrast to all the other graves in the churchyard, which were ancient, weatherworn and overrun by centuries of unchecked growth, that grave was fresh. The other two false graves bearing Alan and Derek's names, which stood on either side of Fields', had had their headstones smashed and the pits filled up by the men before their departure.

Alan knelt and stared at his former friend's monument; the freshly dug earth which filled the grave had since dried up from the summer sun and fresh traces of grime and moss were already slowly accumulating over the headstone. And at the foot of the tombstone, lay something shiny; Alan recognised his knife, still lying where he had planted it before departing. Although coated in dry mud and with a twinge of rust starting to accumulate on the base of the hilt, Alan father's last gift remained intact, as if waiting to be retrieved by its owner. Alan stared grimly at it; although he had valued that weapon most of his life, after it had been used as the instrument to end Fields' life, he felt repulsed at the thought of continuing to use it, or even keeping it. "What the hell am I doing here?"

As he stood there staring at his former friend's grave in silent thinking, he was suddenly startled by a soft voice behind him, "You feel sorry for him, don't you?" He turned and saw Silverweed, who had undoubtedly followed him, standing a short distance away, staring at him with sympathy. Alan got to his feet, surprised by the mystic's arrival, "Silverweed? What are you doing here? Have you been following me?" Although not angry at the buck for tailing him, it was quite reckless and irresponsible to be travelling out here alone (Alan had a gun, so he was an exception). Even without mutants, Efrafans, and even the elil kept at bay from the presence of humans with guns, the wilderness was still quite dangerous for an inexperienced runty rabbit.

"Fiver told me where you were going," Silverweed explained simply. Ever since settling down on the Down, Silverweed had found a close friend in Fiver, because of their mystic powers. They would spend hours alone together, exploring that faraway world of theirs. "He also reassured me that there was no danger to worry about; I kept you within sight most of the time so you can't say I was completely unprotected."

"I am flattered, but why did you follow me here at all? This is something I wanted to do alone…" Alan started but Silverweed interrupted, "Only you don't know _what_ to do, right?" Alan didn't even bother arguing; with that far sight of his, Silverweed could read others' minds at will. It was then that he realised something, "But…how did you know? I thought your far sight was gone since…"

"Frith works in mysterious ways," explained the buck grimly, "Only a few days after I came out of that coma, I felt my powers slowly start to wake up as well; you were right when you said they were probably just temporarily shut off. Fiver has been helping me regain full control of them; I exchange for his help, I promised to help you out with this uncertainty that plagues you." In an instant, Alan realised where Silverweed was getting at; he was asking for permission to enter his mind again. But what good would it do, to dig up Alan's memories of Fields?

Although Alan had come to trust Silverweed, and while the buck had sworn he would never invade other's minds without permission again, Alan still had reservations of allowing to mystic to temper with his mind, which would inevitably force him to relive the painful memories he was currently struggling to suppress. On the other hand, a possible way to put his mind at ease over this business regarding Fields wouldn't go amiss, given that the rest of his friends hadn't been of much help; the entire Watership Owsla only saw it as a triumph and found it absurd that Alan should have any qualms about 'killing the enemy'. Hazel had insisted it had been the right choice and that he shouldn't feel any guilt, while Derek, Hotdog and even Josie had only remarked how it was 'good riddance to bad rubbish'. Only Fiver had been uncertain as to what to make of it, yet had been at a loss as to how to advice Alan. As for Lucy, Alan had sworn he wouldn't associate his daughter with the man who had stolen away part of her life ever again.

The only ones that had been of some comfort to him were Violet and Bluebell, who shared a similar misfortune; even after Alan had told them everything Bluebell's deceased cousins had told him in the land beyond life, the couple still felt guilt over a situation that could never be amended. Bluebell still believed he should have tried harder to make amends with Speedwell and maybe even helped him make up to Violet instead of courting her (a remark for which he earned a cuff over the head by his mate). Violet, although she loved her mate deeply, still kept blaming herself for turning Speedwell away in such a hateful manner over a mere prank, dishonest as it may have been. However, in spite of sharing a similar problem, they were of little help to Alan. Overall, no one had been helpful in the way Alan needed. Now Silverweed stood confidently before him as if he had a solution at hand.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Alan asked, staring curiously at the mystic rabbit. To his surprise, Silverweed asked, "What were Fields' last thoughts just before he died?" Alan started to grow irritated, "I don't know; hate and spite? Look, I've already told you everything that happened here…"

"The answer to your problem lies entirely with _Fields_; how did he feel with you ending his life? At first glance, you might think that it was just hatred at his defeat; however, you only saw his _surface_ emotions when you fought him. Behind his corrupt mind, there is still his heart; and the emotions expressed from _there_ are always true." Alan was getting more perplexed by the minute at Silverweed's words, "Well, in that case, the answer has died with him. You aren't proposing you sent me on another Life Memory Journey, right? Besides, I can't see how he could have felt anything other than hate towards me, given that he had made it clear that he would either kill me or die in the attempt…"

"Not if you saw it beforehand," Silverweed persisted, "Although you aren't a mystic, to be able to _sense_ those hidden emotions directly, they still exist buried deep within your memories, waiting to be unravelled; and at the scene of the incident, those unseen memories are strongest as nowhere else. Fiver has been telling me how he can sense other's emotions, and how the stronger ones leave traces behind at the scene, like a lingering presence. I've since been working to adjust my powers so I can sense them too; I can't think of a better time to put them to the test." Although still a bit sceptical at the proposition, Alan felt he had finally found a chance of finding the answer he sought, rather than spend the rest of his life wondering.

Nodding his permission, he let Silverweed walk up to him, so they were almost face-to-face. They stood on opposite sides of Fields' grave, facing each other; Silverweed stood on his hind legs and extended his forepaws to the man, "Take my paws, Alan; we'll find out the truth together." The man obeyed, as he got down on his knees so he was level with the small mystic. Gently taking Silverweed's paws into his hands, he saw the mystic go rigid and his non-blinking eyes turn glassy and luminous like a pair of light bulbs. Then he felt the familiar mental invasion in his head as Silverweed took over his mind.

Glimpses and echoes of his memories of Fields flashed before his eyes in rapid succession; only this time, he could feel Fields' own thoughts and emotions, unlocked by Silverweed's far sight. Their teenage years at the orphanage, where Fields had felt like the social outcast and stuck with Alan and the others only because he preferred to side with the strongest and the most popular, in hopes of sharing their spotlight in the process. Yet deep down, he envied them and loathed himself, knowing he'd never be like them no matter how hard he tried…

Their teenage years at university, where Fields had finally managed to impress a girl (Mary) by being a star student in the same department. Although he could sense from the start that their relationship seemed unlikely to last, given that Mary had befriended him more out of courtesy than true friendship, let alone love. When their vague relationship finally ended, Fields had finally snapped, not so much out of hatred and jealousy towards _Alan_, as he kept saying, but rather _self-loathing_; he was determined, never to be the weak one ever again. The seed of corruption and evil, fuelled by the pain of his misfortunes in life, had been planted into his soul and taking root…

Years later, Fields had morphed into Russell Robbins, with every last sense of friendship and compassion, long since buried beneath his new evil persona; yet, he could still feel the magnitude of his crimes, the satisfaction of power and triumph, continuously won out over his rapidly withering former self. He was now the inescapable prisoner of his own corruption. That was until the day when he reunited with his former friend, this time as his mortal enemy. After taking Lucy into his custody, he found that, under the girl's influence, the shadow of evil seemed to slowly lift from his soul; at times he could almost feel remorse for his actions, yet his determination coupled with the bitter knowledge that he was already beyond the point of no return, prevented him from attempting to make amends…

When the time came to finish his sworn nemesis, his vow for revenge had fuelled his determination once again, unleashing his evil side full force. Although the unexpected detour into the future had initially made him hesitant, questioning whether or not to go along with his original plan, he couldn't bring himself to admitting the truth. After observing Alan's newfound happiness with his rabbit friends, his hate and jealousy had resurfaced; once again, his corrupt side had won out and lashed out like a caged beast. That desire had only intensified after the hawk attack, where Robbins had seen that 'attempt on his life' as the excuse to destroy Alan and everyone associated with him in the most painful way possible, and claim everything they had as his own…

Throughout the many confrontations that followed, Field's evil side had only grown stronger, consuming his self entirely, completely separating him from any sense of consciousness or reason; a fact established when he killed Max Pete for disobeying him. But then, the unexpected had happened, when he discovered that Alan had recovered his daughter and brought her into the future with him; the possibility of salvaging the life he had so much wanted had represented itself. Although claiming the girl as his own was more due to the fact that he believed Lucy should have rightfully been his daughter, without realising it with his clouded judgement, Fields actually sought some sort of _redemption_ from the monster he had become…

When the moment of the final confrontation had arrived, the evil presence within Fields had flared up again like a beacon, urging him to fight to the death rather than accept mercy from his sworn enemy. During the fight, the two halves of Fields' divided self had also been caught in a final mental conflict; the evil side urged him to kill while the little that remained of his dignity, trapped deep within his soul, was making him sloppy. At the last second, his suppressed half had finally won out; a second of hesitancy, masked behind his jeering of his opponent's imminent demise, had given Alan the upper hand and Fields had ended up having the fatal blow deflected upon himself instead. Even on the brink of death, his evil side had continued to torment Alan for his crime, like a daemon; however, the other half had made him feel remorse for his actions, as well as relief at finally given the chance to escape his monstrous transformation, even by ending his life…

Then the flashback ended; Alan fell on his back, feeling his shirt soaked in sweat and tears of shock running down his face; opposite him, Silverweed was also recovering from the stressful mental energy backlash he had been forced to endure, to perform the penetration. But Alan wasn't paying attention; his mind was on his final revelation he had just learned of his late former friend. What he had done to Fields hadn't been a hard yet necessary act; it hadn't been an act of heroism either; it had been an act of mercy. A way out for Fields, so to speak, from his deadly transformation, which had taken over his persona entirely.

As the sad truth sunk in, Alan finally realised that Fields could never have been redeemed; the evil manifested within his soul as a result of his misfortunes in life, had taken him way beyond the point of ever being reformed. As emphasized in the Bible, when a mortal bargains with Satan and gets his wish but at the price of his soul, Fields had suffered a similar fate; his desire to be something significant in life and win the heart of a woman, had led to his transforming into the cruel emotionless brute known as Russell Robbins, with no hope of turning back. Death had been the only way to escape his greatest enemy: _himself_. And, ironically, it had been his former friend, whom he had vowed to make suffer, to unknowingly show him that mercy; almost as if fate intended him to finally escape that miserable existence of his, through Alan.

Although deeply saddened at the realisation that Fields' life had been pointless, wasted, with death as his only means of salvation, Alan now felt a great weight finally lift off his chest, knowing that he had in fact granted a last service to his fallen friend, rather than have his blood on his hands as he initially thought. Turning back to the gravestone, he pulled out his knife, still planted into the freshly dug earth. He stared at it, hesitating; then, with a sigh, he tucked it into his belt. His father's last gift, would now serve a better purpose than a bitter relic of a dark past; to help him build a better future, hopefully preventing another one like Fields'. Although his former friend could no be brought back, his bitter fate would serve as a reminder for Alan to look ahead.

"You think he made it to the land beyond life?" he asked Silverweed, who was staring at him with sympathy. The mystic rabbit slowly nodded, "If he regretted his crimes before he died, then he has found peace; Frith is always forgiving to those who ask for it…even a human. While the evil General Woundwort chose to die in an attempt to destroy you and make your friends suffer at your loss, Fields managed to regain some of his dignity the second before the Black Rabbit took him from his body; even then it isn't too late to ask forgiveness." Alan sighed in relief, realising that Fields had probably, at least been spared an eternity in the realm of Elil-rah, where Woundwort, Sergey, Sven and his other associates had ended up in death. Whether or not he had found some newfound happiness in the land beyond life, Alan could never know for certain; but at least he could hope.

He reached over and patted his mystic friend over the head in gratitude, "Thank you Silverweed; I needed that." Silverweed only nodded curtly, "You risked yourself to save me from the river after I slipped into that coma; I was just returning the favour."

Casting one last glance at Fields' lonely grave, Alan and Silverweed walked away, heading towards Alan's horse, which lay grazing on the edge of the graveyard, completely oblivious to everything that had been going on. Alan turned to Silverweed, "Care for a ride back?" Silverweed looked hesitant; although he had become accustomed to being patted by Alan, riding on a horse nearly ten times his size, felt a bit too much, "I don't know Alan; I am not sure how safe it is…" But Alan suddenly picked him up by the middle (Silverweed cringed at being lifted into the air by a human, as if felt similar to being snatched away by a hawk) and placed him on the horse, before climbing on behind him, and they galloped away; at first Silverweed trembled with anxiety at the ride but soon relaxed, seeing it was safe.

As they rode away into the sunset, Alan's mind kept going over everything he had learned today; although the pain of Fields' betrayal would always remain, Alan now felt some newfound pity and understanding for his late former friend. Regardless of everything Fields had done, he could no longer let him be remembered only as an insane, foul, murdering brute, and Alan hailed as a hero for defeating him. Sure enough, upon his return, he related everything he had found out to his friends; although some of them, like Fiver and Hazel, also felt more sympathetic upon this realisation, others like Campion, Bigwig and Bluebell, had suffered too much at his hand to leave any room for sympathy.

Soon however, the incident was forgotten in the midst of their daily work. Except for one thing: after consulting with Fiver, he agreed to name one of the kittens in his newborn litter after Fields, to preserve his memory. Despite initial scientism and hesitation on Fiver's part as well as others, who insisted the kitten might become the victim of bullying or gossip later on, from being named after an enemy, Vithuril eventually gave her consent. Also, it was mostly on Hazel's agreement, that these kind of prejudices stood against everything they represented and it could promote the alliance between them and the former Efrafans.

So, on the Naming Ceremony of Fiver's litter, which occurred only a few weeks after Alan's visit to Fields' grave, the forth kitten in the litter, a buck, was named after Alan's deceased childhood friend. This way, Alan felt they were at least preserving Fields' memory in a non-hateful way, other than just that of a defeated enemy once known as Russell Robbins.

Author's note: This was actually the original epilogue to the story but I wanted to extend the group's progress, so I wrote a different one and scrapped this. Then I thought that this scene with Alan finally being able to forgive Fields and find peace within himself would interest some readers, so I restored it as a deleted scene. By the way, it ties in with several other deleted scenes I restored throughout the text; for those who haven't read the updated version of NW, I advice you to do so. Enjoy and PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6 The End of the Beginning

**Warning to all readers: This epilogue contains spoilers of any possible sequel(s) to _New World_ I may write in the future. If you don't like spoilers, then I strongly recommend you stop reading now!**

January 7th 2027, London

The streets of Drayton Gardens, Kensington, were silent and deserted; the only person in sight was a tall man in his fifties, strolling down Drayton Court, to an abandoned block of flats. Sir Cole Drake made his way towards his long gone colleague's old home.

The years had passed for Drake; ever since his colleague Alan Johnson had vanished, and presumed dead by the rest of the world, the scientist, instead of moving on, as one might expect, had instead been _working_ with his 'deceased' colleague. Since Alan disappearance, over 14 years ago, Drake had laboured frantically for the completion of Project Utopia; a scientific undertaking which would someday reshape the future of humanity. Unlike most undertakings of such challenge and importance, which were usually authorized and financed by governments, Project Utopia was kept a secret from the world, the only exceptions, other than Drake and his family, being some 40 hand-picked individuals who supported Drake's project, including the Chief the Defence Staff Charles Santon, the former Chief Inspector who had worked on the case of the Red Hand Brotherhood back in 2013.

Dr Drake's late father, Sergey Petrograd had been the founder and leader of the infamous terrorist faction, whose cause had been to dismantle the European Union and replace it with a revived Soviet Realist Empire; a regime where the welfare of the state is everything yet the people themselves are nothing, like an ant colony. For this purpose, Red Hand had spent years as well as a significant portion of Sergey's immense fortune, to construct a weapon to fulfil the first stage of their quest; Project Black Inferno would have wiped out the capitols of all world powers by firing bursts of lethal electromagnetic pulses, potent enough to counteract the Earth's own electromagnetic field in random locations, allowing those locations to be instantly incinerated by solar radiation. Drake had unwillingly been an associate himself, when his sinister father had threatened the lives of his family; this had reached breaking point when Drake was forced to betray his colleague, who had unknowingly become Red Hand's next intended victim along with his family.

After Alan's wife and daughter were murdered, with Alan himself having survived, only to be left to the misery and depression of his tragedy, Drake had been at a total loss as to what to do; although he had evidence to incriminate his father, and reveal Red Hand's entire plot, entrusted into his care by Alan's late brother-in-law Miles Millard, another victim of Red Hand, he knew it would be no use; his father was a very powerful man with money and connections, which would inevitably result in any attempt made against him, to backfire on _him_ instead, further endangering his life and his family, as well as himself and anybody else he got involved. Shortly thereafter, his family were abducted, under the threat that they would be killed, if Drake refused to go along with more of his father's sinister plans; to finally kill Alan himself. Then the unexpected had happened; instead of learning of his colleague's murder, Alan had suddenly disappeared along with Derek Shaw and the hitman whom his father had hired to kill them; it came as an even greater surprise when he found out that this wasn't part of his father's plan at all. Nonetheless it was of little consequence, as Sergey had assumed his son had set this up and told him his family were going to die for his 'betrayal'.

Giving up his family for dead and with nothing left to lose, Drake had sworn to end it or die trying. Unfortunately, although his plan to subdue his father by slipping him a dud medication succeeded, it still didn't kill the infamous terrorist; Sergey was only bedridden and it was just a matter of time before he recovered and came after Drake, who had resolved to go into hiding, hoping to survive long enough to take the initiative and finish his task; but even after his father was finally dead, Red Hand's faction members were still at large, and suspected him of the murder. Then, just when it seemed that the battle had reached a stalemate, Alan had suddenly shown up alive and accompanied by five giant anthropomorphic rabbits from a future world that Drake, learned, was destined to create himself someday.

As a result of his father terrorizing him since childhood, aside from his family, Drake had privately always found more happiness in animals rather than human beings, seeing how 'the horrors of humanity' didn't apply to them, inspiring him to envision Project Utopia; after he had met Alan, who shared the same ideas of human impact, he had enlisted him in his endeavour, having need of his colleague's good knowledge on ecology, to make the project work. For several years they had privately worked on the first steps, only for the project to be interrupted after Alan's family were murdered; although it had remained his dream, Drake had never suspected he would ever be able to finish the project, not when he had come to the point of believing death would find him at any moment. That notion had changed instantly when he had heard Alan's story of his incredible journey into the future where he had witnessed the outcome of Drake's life's work firsthand.

When Project Black Inferno had been taken down and the Red Hand Brotherhood eliminated, Drake, who still owed his colleague a great debt for betraying him as well as Alan having saved his life, had stayed true to his word and resumed Project Utopia in earnest, using all the information of the future that his colleague had entrusted to him and Inspector Santon. As for Alan, he had secretly departed to establish a new colony in the future world of those anthropomorphic rabbits that would someday replace humans as the dominant creatures on the planet, following humanity's extinction due to some unknown cause…or so Alan had told him. While his colleague had been declared dead in action, so his efforts in taking down Red Hand would be recognised, dispelling his initial reputation of a deranged psychopath, and for the secret of the future to remain safe, Drake and his trustees knew, or rather _believed_, Alan was currently living in the future, fulfilling his own part in the project: to mend the breach between humans and nature, creating a new world.

Although Drake was confident that Alan was doing well, being unable to transmit or receive any communication, felt extremely overwhelming. Even after the 2012 Aurora had passed, it was later discovered that the forgotten and malfunctioning Project Black Inferno could still stimulate the re-opening of the time portal, as it returned to earth's orbit every four years; once, Drake had attempted to send a messenger into the future, one who had never returned, leaving the question as to whether or not Alan had received his communication in doubt. And so it had been for fourteen years that Drake and his League had laboured in secret for the creation of a world which they weren't even sure would even come to pass.

Despite reassurance and encouragement from his family and friends, Drake had battled frustrating uncertainty all these years; what if this project he was doing, was actually laying the seeds of humanity's eventual destruction? Although by now he knew it worked, and would be complete within the next few years, Drake still had doubts, as to whether or not he was doing the right thing. Despite Alan's story, as well as meeting those five giant rabbits which he had brought back with him, Drake still had a bad feeling about this, almost like a premonition of a terrible mistake he was about to make. He remembered Alan telling him about the doom of civilisation but had seemed rather discreet about the details concerning the eventual fall of humanity; even to Drake, it seemed odd that an Ice Age would wipe the human race out of existence, when he was told that some of them would survive an asteroid impact big enough to choke up the entire world! Santon, who seemed to know something more but had always refused to share it, had calmly insisted that they should have faith in Alan's instructions, which was of little reassurance to Drake; he had already mucked it up once by not standing up to his murderer of a father; what if fate repeated itself somehow?

Then, two years ago, the first part of Alan's prediction of the future had happened; doomsday had been announced. With Apocalypse and Pandora speeding towards the Earth, probably to destroy it, society had quickly disintegrated into global chaos and uncontrollable rioting, while governments and scientists, including Drake's own son David, now a lead engineer, struggled to construct the HABs, which would hopefully spare humanity from extinction; even now, as he gazed up at the night sky, he could see two heavenly bodies, which were growing bigger and bigger by the day, as they neared the Earth for an inevitable collision. The Prime Minister had declared a state of martial law, with all public transport suspended and coastal cities slowly evacuated, in preparation for the passing of Apocalypse. Ever since the announcement of the upcoming catastrophe, even nature had started showing its own signs of the upcoming catastrophe; it had started with some peculiar bird migration patterns, whale and dolphin beachings, followed by random and violent anomalies in the weather, including cataclysms, electric storms, and tides running higher than ever before, slowly rendering all coastal areas around the world inhospitable.

With the evacuation of London due to commence the following day, Drake had decided to pay one last visit to his colleague's old home; with Alan having named him sole executive of his estate in his will before departing, Drake had retained custody of the apartment as well as the rest of Alan's property, but had firmly refused to liquidate it. Despite protests from his family and friends, that selling the apartment would earn the League a significant addition to their funds, Drake felt almost as if his colleague was only away on business and would come back some day, making him feel that he had no right to claim Alan's fortune as his own. All these years, he had carefully maintained the apartment, hiring people to keep it clean and in order, yet he never lived there or let anyone rent or buy it, or dispose of any of the household goods.

As he made his way down the deserted street, he stared grimly at all the devastation caused by the rioting and looting conducted by desperate mobs of panicked people, or those simply seeking to make a dirty profit out the situation; shop windows were smashed with all valuables stolen or otherwise destroyed, while debris, garbage and abandoned vehicles littered the street, as well as former pets, abandoned by their fleeing owners, scavenging around for food. The air was thick with the smell of decaying garbage and with the smoke of countless fires started by rioters throughout the city. The lampposts were still burning, the power stations having been given the order to keep the power going as long as possible, yet all the windows of the neighbourhood houses were dark and silent, completely deserted. Passing by a collapsed newspaper stand, pilled high with brochures offering tips and advise, he glanced at the headlines of some discarded newspapers lying on the edge of the sidewalk:

EVACUATION

MASS EXODUS FOR BRITISH PEOPLES;

APOCALYPSE DRAWS CLOSER

Shrugging off the grim thought of the upcoming end of human civilisation, Drake made his way to number 31, where Alan's old apartment was located. Glancing up at the sky, he saw the familiar Aurora, which returned briefly every four years, ever since the end of the 2012 event. Reminding himself he only had a few hours before they evacuated to the HAB, after which he'd likely never see London again as it would most likely be destroyed, he pushed the door open and entered the building; the hallway was deserted and silent, with discarded suitcases and other belongings of residents that had fled as well as signs of vandalism caused by passing bandits and looters.

Making his way up to number 31, which had a sign spelling 'PRIVATE PROPERTY; KEEP OUT!' on the door, he realised, to his horror, that the lights in the apartment were on; someone else was already inside! Feeling his blood boil at the thought of someone invading his colleague's old home, probably looking for easy loot, Drake drew his revolver (he had since acquired a gun licence with Santon's help) and swung the not-surprisingly already unlocked door, wide open.

Breezing into the parlour, expecting to come face to face with some vandal ransacking the place for valuables, he saw, to his surprise, that there was nobody there. To add to his amazement, there wasn't even a single sign of a break-in; the furniture, covered in their plastic covers for protection against the dust, all stood in order, as well as all the china, the library, and ornaments, which stood undisturbed on their shelves. Yet, the lights were on and the door unlocked, so it couldn't be a mistake. Cautiously making his way down the corridor that run the full length of the apartment, he glanced into his colleague's old office; ever since Alan had gone, Drake had made a habit of working here in privacy, going through his colleague's many journals and laboratory ledgers of his past work on ecology, containing all the information needed for the final wrap-up of Project Utopia. Although he had made good use of Alan's work to complete his own part of the project, as instructed by his colleague, he never dared move anything else from his colleague's old home, feeling he had no right to do so.

As he passed outside the master bedroom, he heard it; the steady breathing and muttering of someone lying on the bed. His weapon clutched firmly in his hand, Drake gently pushed the door ajar and peered into the room; lying on the four-poster bed, propped up against the pillows and with the blankets pulled up to his waist, was an ancient-looking old man at least in his one-hundreds, with white hair and a tall built; as if sensing of Drake's presence, the stranger glanced in the direction of the door, "Hallo Cole. Please come in."

Starting to feel overwhelmed of this mysterious stranger who knew his name and apparently _expecting_ his arrival, Drake entered cautiously and walked over to the bed, to get a better look at the man. Despite the deformation in his features caused by old age, the hazel eyes behind the battered spectacles were unmistakable; Drake's heart almost skipped a beat as he recognised his former colleague, whom he had given up for dead years ago, "A…_Alan_? Is that you?" Alan Johnson smiled back at him, gesturing to Drake to take a seat beside the bed. The scientist obeyed, not breaking eye contact with Alan, "What…how did you…? What are you doing here? I thought you had died in the future…"

"And you were nearly right, a thousand times over Cole, but I am not dead…at least for a while longer," Alan replied weakly. Drake stared dumbstruck at his colleague; Alan's once jet-black hair had turned snow white from aging, yet maintained its sleekness. Under the blanket, he could see Alan was wearing a threadbare navy blue cotton shirt; the very same one he had been wearing when they had last seen each other back in 2013. Although he still maintained his height and good built, the thinness and paleness on his face, told Drake that the old man was terminally ill.

"You are probably wandering, what I am doing here," Alan replied, with great effort rising in a sitting position, causing Drake to realise, with sick dread, that Alan was indeed a dying man, yet didn't dare utter a word as he continued to listen to his former colleague, "It's quite a long story and I haven't much time, so I better start from the beginning; when we last saw each other all those years ago."

"Upon our return to the future, we discovered that our gamble with time travelling to undo the destruction of the new world, had paid off; although we found several of our friends had died all over again, the majority had survived and the future world remained intact. With some difficulty, which involved a bloody battle with many losses, General Woundwort was finally overthrown and his rule abolished; the surviving Efrafans established a new peaceful warren and, despite initial distrust and animosity, we finally managed to establish a peaceful co-existence in the new world…for the time being anyway."

"Your rabbit friends remained supportive of you all the way?" asked Drake, remembering the strong bond he had observed between his colleague and the five rabbits he had brought back with him on his last visit, when he had revealed to Drake the future. Alan smiled in remembrance, "With Hazel, Fiver, Pipkin, Bigwig, as well as the rest of the survivors of our original group, my companions and I remained friends for life; eventually, the rest of that world of lagomorphs fully accepted us as well. In the years that followed, we all worked hard to build a new world for both our species; after facing adventures, challenges, hardships, as well as painful losses, we lived to see a new incredible human/lagomorph society be born. With our science and the powerful virtues of the lagomorphs combined together, civilisation was reborn completely different than its present corrupt counterpart."

"What about Josie and your other companions? After Santon was discharged from hospital, he came back to me, expressing his disappointment of being left behind, and volunteered to become my trustee in our endeavour instead, using that letter you had left him; he has been of great help to the League all these years, protecting the secrecy of our work as well as aiding us through his connections, yet for some reason, remains rather secretive of whatever you've told him. We too, have had to face difficulties and all sorts of problems in our endeavour, including the danger of discovery and even sabotage by unexpected enemies…"

"The same unexpected enemies, we too had to face on the other end, I believe" Alan added grimly, as he pieced everything Drake had just told him together, "Not so surprisingly, we had to accept help from many unexpected and, at first glance, least unlikely _allies_, including my lost brother Royce. Long story…" he added, seeing Drake's puzzled expression at the mention of Alan's late brother.

"After settling down in the future, Josie, Derek, Hotdog, Lucy and I soon made a brilliant new life for ourselves, in spite of all the challenges we had to overcome in the process; I personally, spend many wonderful years with Josie and we eventually married, after she had gotten over the death of her husband who died a war hero, and found her missing son. Our colony slowly grew; we were later joined by more time travellers that had made their way into the future, either accidentally or intentionally, including young Jamie McEwen, who had started a similar human/lagomorph colony like ours, while we had spent several years believing him to be dead. Anyway, after years of effort, planning, and diplomacies, we celebrated the establishment of our first human/lagomorph city, which marked the peak of our new co-existence; many rabbits were successfully introduced into our new civilisation and vice-versa, including Holly and Blackberry, who became part of our government, ensuring the old animosities between our species would not be revived; to this day, humans and rabbits now exist as equals, and their beliefs shared and respected."

"Hazel-rah remained Chief Rabbit of Watership Down until his death from old age; his memory is well preserved by his descendants and friends. Bigwig remained Captain of Owsla and built a glorious reputation as a great warrior; eventually, it was the drink and tobacco, which he had grown really fond of, which finished him off in his old age. I also maintained a close bond with Fiver and Pipkin, who became like a brother and son to me respectively; those two accompanied me on so many of our explorations and adventures, which made us inseparable. Pipkin even went as far as to study after we established our first university, initiating the potential of the rabbits sharing our knowledge. Hawkbit even became the first astrorabbit to walk on the moon…"

"But how come you've _aged_ so much? I am in my fifties, yet I still haven't gone grey; you on the other hand, look so…so _ancient_, almost as if we had last seen each other a lifetime ago…" Alan smiled grimly, "To _you_ it's only been fourteen years; but unfortunately, even with time travel, wherever you settle down, age marches on. After the portal closed in the future, 82 years passed before it reopened, _coincidently_ with a link to this particular date. I am now 116 years old Cole; I was 34 when I first saw the new world. I have lived a long and prosperous life in the future; I have seen a new century come to pass, a new civilisation be born, and the growing and development of my family and friends. But, unfortunately, I've also had to watch my beloved ones slowly die out through the years; Derek, who died during our first space mission, Bigwig, Hazel, Fiver, Pipkin, Josie and finally Lucy. By the time the time warp reopened in 2873, I was the only remaining surviving member of the original Watership group; since I had no one left anymore and having known for a while now that my time is running short, because of that old bullet wound Robbins gave me all those years ago finally taking its toll, I decided to make this final journey to see you one last time, to update you on our progress and to wish you good luck. I barely made it back here, before my strength finally left me…"

"I am here, because I am evacuating to the HAB tomorrow," Drake suddenly said, remembering why had come, "You can still come with me Alan; I am sure I can still find a pass for you to the HAB. I can foresee an important role for you in the League. First, let me call a doctor to check your heart…" But Alan stopped him, "No Cole. I have lived my life; I am a very old man, and my friends and family are all long gone. Even if I could somehow come with you, I'd only be a short-lived burden rather than any help. I still have one final journey to make elsewhere, and it is a journey I, like everyone else before me, will have to make alone." Drake sighed in disappointment at these words; soon, he would be saying goodbye to his friend and colleague for the final time.

Not wanting Alan to be alone during his last few hours, Drake sat by his friend's side; Alan only exchanged a few more words with his old colleague, but otherwise remained silent and content. At one point Drake asked, "Will we ever meet again?" Alan only smiled, "Perhaps…in some other place, some other time, some other world…a new world we built together." Several hours later, when Drake had dozed off for a moment, he looked back at his colleague; Alan lay still and motionless, cold as ice, staring blankly ahead through dilated eye pupils, with his hand stretched out towards something on the bedside table, which he had been trying to pick up. Putting his fingers against his former colleague's throat, Drake's suspicions were instantly confirmed; Alan Johnson was dead.

Drake stared at his colleague's corpse for a few minutes of silence, before kneeling over and closing the dead man's eyes and folding his hands together. Turning to the bedside table, he saw what Alan had been trying to reach before slipping away; it was his trusty knife, his copy of _Watership Down_, and a photograph of himself surrounded by most of the original Watership group along with others Drake didn't know, but guessed were their descendants and friends, all assembled together as one big family. Picking up the photograph, he tucked it in the old book, which he placed in Alan's folded hands along with the knife, which had been his trusty weapon all his life. Then, picking up a bed sheet, he covered the body, hiding it from view.

Having finished paying his last respects to his now deceased friend and colleague, Drake turned to depart. Pausing at the bedroom door, he turned to cast one last look at Alan's body, which had just been laid to rest in his own family home, until nature reclaimed his corpse or the upcoming catastrophe would otherwise vaporize it along with the house. Turning off the lights, which engulfed the apartment in everlasting darkness and silence, Drake departed, locking the front door securely behind him, so nobody would ransack or otherwise disturb Alan's home, which now served as its owner's tomb.

As he made his way down the street to his car, to return home and help his family pack as they prepared for the evacuation, Drake, although saddened by Alan's death, felt relieved to know that the future looked promising; from everything Alan had told him tonight, he now felt confident to know that, what he and his League were doing, would be planting the seeds of a new and better future for mankind. All the initial scepticism and uneasy thoughts that had plagued his mind for the past fourteen years, now felt long gone. Although he was sure that challenges and hardships still lay ahead of him, he now felt content of the task assigned to him. Alan had fulfilled his part; now it was Drake's turn to play his part. Although having spent all these uncertain years living centuries apart, and now knowing that Alan was truly gone from this world forever, Drake felt his colleague was still with him in spirit, and would remain with him all the way, to welcome the new world of Watership Down.

**The End…of the Beginning**

Author's note: This chapter was originally a postscript following the epilogue of New World, but I removed it thinking it contained too many spoilers of the future sequels. As you have probably realised, this chapter contains many hints and spoilers for the plotlines for the sequel(s) I have in mind. However, I still don't know if I'll ever write them; if I do, there is a good chance this epilogue won't match the continuity. If I never write a sequel, consider this chapter the final ending; here, it closes a cycle across time and reveals the eventual fate of the characters. I am sorry I didn't reveal all of them but I want some space for a good sequel. Also, there were several other deleted scenes, as well a Christmas special, which were lost or abandoned. Sorry! Enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW if you haven't!

Frithaes!


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